Frozen Truths
by GuiltyMind
Summary: He's stuck in a position of riches and materialism, and she's trapped in a life of misfortune and unpaid billls. A job opportunity causes the two to meet, but coming from completely different worlds, how will their true feelings ever be revealed?
1. Chapter 1

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 1 {Tris' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

"So, they just fired you?" Tori asks from behind the counter, watching me as I wipe down tables. "Without any warning at all?"

"No, it was just totally out of the blue," I huff. "Cara said that I "didn't fit their image", whatever that means."

"It means that they don't like the fact that you're from this side of town, and that you don't own multiple properties, and don't have money falling out of your ears."

"I just wish they'd have given me some kind of notice, y'know?" I say, moving on to scrubbing the next booth. "At least then I could've started to search for a new job. Now I'm living on one pay check, and we both know that I need another, if I'm going to be able to look after us at home."

"On that note, how is your mom? Any better?"

"Well.. she's not any worse." I answer, nibbling at my bottom lip.

"I'm sorry, I was stupid to even ask" she says, gently. "Any word from your brother? Perhaps he could help out with the bills and such?"

I can't help but scoff. "Yeah, right. Caleb has made it pretty clear that he wants nothing to do with us, anymore."

Tori gives me a sad smile, before moving across the diner to serve a bunch of rowdy teenagers in the corner.

I've been working here at the diner since junior year, and eventually took on a full-time shift, shortly after becoming a senior. I love working here, and Tori has always treated me with great respect, but the pay isn't great, which is why I needed that second job.

And the fact that I've been fired, is a big problem - the people in this town aren't in a hurry to hire "youths with no qualifications", so it's not easy to find a job around these parts. Which is an even bigger problem, because no job means no money, which means I'm in a lot of shit.

I dropped out of high school a few months into my senior year, because my mom needed me. Which means I never got to do my exams, and never had the opportunity to get out of this hell hole of a town and escape to college.

My brother - Caleb - wasn't prepared to make the same sacrifices that I did, and continued on with his college life over in California. He's a couple years older than me, so you'd think that it'd be him to take on the responsibility, but here I am. Hell, he hasn't even bothered to come back and visit since he left; not even during the holidays.

I move towards the kitchen, but stop by at Frank's table with the coffee pot. "More coffee?" I offer with a genuine smile.

"Oh, yes please," he says. "And maybe another one of your beignets - Tori tells me you've made a fresh batch just now."

"Of course, I'll have one of those right out." I say, refilling his cup with coffee, before continuing on my way to the kitchen.

After beginning to brew more coffee and plating up two of the beignets that I had made earlier, I migrate back into the front and slide the plate onto his table.

Frank White is a regular here, and has been ever since I started working here. He would come with his wife every Wednesday evening, for coffee and french fries. Sadly, his wife passed a year ago after battling with Breast Cancer, and Tori and I were even invited to the funeral.

Ever since, Frank still comes to the diner on Wednesday Evenings, and brings a picture of his wife along with him. He often sits there and has conversations with the framed picture, like he would've done if she was really there. I'm not sure whether it makes me want to laugh a little, or burst into tears. A bit of both, I think.

"I really wish you had started to make these when my Rose was here," he says, fondly, glancing at the picture frame opposite him. "She would've loved them; she always was a sucker for a good pastry."

"I remember. She would order cherry pie, every time she came in." I add, smiling a little.

As I turn, a gang of teenagers push through the door, laughing. They are all dressed in Halloween costumes, seeing as today is October 31st, so I can only presume they were at some kind of party - they look much too old to be going out trick-or-treating. They grab a booth and pile into it, grabbing at the menus.

I look away. I can't help but think about the days that I was able to do stuff like that; go out to parties with my friends, spend my free time doing normal teenager things, rather than working my ass off just to keep a roof over my head. I was like them once, but those times have passed.

I give Frank a pat on the shoulder before heading in their direction.

"What can I get y'all?" I ask, flipping open my pad, and slipping my pen out from the pocket of my apron.

After taking down their order of a dozen burgers and milkshakes, I head off to the kitchen to let the chef know, before getting started on the milkshakes behind the counter.

I miss being in High School, as dull as I once believed it to be - there was a sense of freedom there, one that I no longer have. Being only nineteen, I haven't been able to do all the things people my age have. I have no time, anymore.

My number one priority is looking after my mom, and the only way I can do that is if I work all day, every day, to make sure bills are paid, and the cupboards are stocked with food, and that she has the medication she requires. And within all of that, the prospect of a social life disappeared.

But I try to look at things optimistically, rather than feeling sorry for myself all the time. Where's that going to get me? Besides, I'm sure there are others out there who have it much worse than I do, so I shouldn't really be complaining, in the first place.

I pour the milkshake into the glasses, add straws and slide them onto a tray.

By the time I've delivered both the milkshakes and the burgers, and go to collect Frank's trays, he's busying himself with doing the buttons up on his coat.

"You get home safe now, are you sure you'll be okay?" I ask him, anxiously. Despite it being such a small town, I know a lot of terrible things that have happened on Halloween - and since he's a little old man, and it's pretty much pitch black outside, his chances of getting away if something were to happen are very slim.

"I'll be fine, don't you worry about it, Tris," he says, waving me off, reassuringly. "You just make sure that you get home safely. There are a lot of people out there who would take advantage of a pretty girl like you, I can tell you that much."

"Have a good night, Frank. I'll see you next Wednesday?" I say, my cheeks growing warm at the compliment.

"Of course, I hope to enjoy some more of those beignets." He confirms, before opening the door to the diner and walking out, pulling on his hat at the same time.

A girl at the teenagers booth raises a hand and calls me over, asking for the bill.

In no time at all, the place is deserted and Tori is flipping the sign on the door from open to closed. I hop up onto the counter and count out my tips for the day, coming to the total of a resounding $15 bucks. The majority of the customers here are teenagers, and they don't leave very generous tips, if they do at all.

"So, what are you going to do about finding a new job? I'm sure someone would hire you, there are tons of cafes that will need staff." Tori says as she begins to stack chairs up onto the tables.

"I don't know," I sigh. "But I need to find a placement quick, the rent is due in a few weeks and if I can't get enough..."

"I really wish I could give you more wages, Tris, I do. But with Bud out of work and Summer at home -"

"Of course, you have bills to pay, just like I do. But you also have a kid to look out for," I say, nodding. "I'm sure I'll manage somehow. I always scrape by, don't I?"

"It's not fair; you should be enjoying life while you're still young, not slaving away, working multiple jobs, worrying yourself sick.. it's not right." She says, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"There's not much I can do about that, though, is there?" I remind her. "It's just one of those things, I guess. Mom is in no position to work, and with Caleb refusing to acknowledge our existence, I have no other choice but to be the one to earn a living for us."

"You've been handed a pretty crappy hand in life, Tris. How you remain so mature about it all, amazes me."

"You get used to it," I shrug. "D'you need any help cleaning up before I head home?"

"You've done more than enough, you get home. Make sure you stick to the main streets too, I'm willing to bet they'll be more trouble this time of night." Tori advises.

Over the years, slowly, Tori has become a motherly figure to me - now that mine has slipped away from me. She's always looking out for me the way my mom used to do, checking that I'm eating well, and that everything is okay at home. It's nice having someone fussing over me for a change, rather than vice versa.

I slip off the counter and hang up my apron, swapping it for my black hooded sweatshirt. After bidding Tori goodnight, I leave the diner, and flinch at the cold air. The air bearing a fall bite, is a definite difference from the warm, cosy diner.

I start the long walk home - I don't have money spare to catch the last bus of the night, so my only option is to walk, which sucks.

Ignoring Tori's advice, I take a left off the main street, and step into a dark alley, lit by a single street light. It's pretty creepy, but I'm too cold to care. I can hear music somewhere off in the distance, presumably a party or something. In high school, Halloween parties were pretty popular, and I went to a fair few myself.

I shove my hands deep inside my pockets, shivering a little. I've always hated the cold, I much prefer the sun. But at least it's not snowing. But around here, winters do end up being very snowy, so I have that to look forward to in a couple months.

Thankfully, I manage to get home in record time, and my hands are only half frozen. I kick off my sneakers and pick up the mail, shuffling through to find bills, bills and more bills. A sigh escapes my lips and I throw them down on the kitchen table.

I slip into the living room to find mom lying on the couch, in the same position she was when I left her this morning. She hasn't even moved an inch. She stares at the television screen, her face slack and vacant of emotion. She doesn't even notice my sudden appearance in the room.

I approach the couch and sit down on the floor beside her head, and brush some hair away from her eyes. Her eyes snap to meet mine, and she jerks away from my touch, curling up into a tighter ball. My eyes cloud over with tears, but I blink them away. I hate seeing her like this, and I hate knowing that there's nothing that I can do to help her.

I stand up and draw the curtains closed, turning off the TV while I'm at it. "Try and get some rest, mom." I say softly before leaving the room, pulling the door closed behind me.

She's been that way for a year now, and it kills me, watching the woman who looked after me for seventeen years, just slip away into the darkness of herself. She was always so strong, but then Dad died, and she lost all of that strength.

He passed away during my senior year, in a fatal car accident on the highway, a couple miles away from town. He was returning home from a business trip, and a truck lost control from the lane alongside him, and crashed into my dad's beat up car. By the time the air ambulance had got him to the hospital, it was too late, he was already gone.

Mom totally lost it, and stayed in her bed for a solid week. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't drink.. I thought that she was going to kill herself if she kept it up. So I dropped out of school to look after her. With me at home most of the time, I could focus my attention on helping her to become more healthy.

And although I succeeded in getting her to eat and drink, she was still spiralling into a vicious case of depression, and there was nothing I could do but sit there and watch it happen. The doctors prescribed her with sleeping drugs, anti-depressants.. but nothing seems to be working.

And then we started to run out of money, and my job at the diner wasn't cutting it, so I went searching for a second job, and then a third. After getting fired from both my second and third, I'm back to square one, trying to scrape by with the wages Tori is providing me with. I have to get a new job, and fast.

I shrug off my jacket and flop down at the kitchen table, where the stack of bills sit, taunting me. I close my eyes and sink back into the wooden chair, a heavy feeling of dread settling on my chest.

I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. I'm trying so hard to look at this in a positive way, to try and search for the bright side, but none of it seems to work. It certainly feels that way. For right now, at least. Right now I feel like I've got the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I'm struggling to stand straight.

A tear slides down my cheek before I can stop it, leaving a damp trail as it drips from my chin. I bring my feet up on to the chair and wrap my arms around my legs, burying my head into my knees.

 _I can't cry_ , I tell myself. _I can't cry, because that means I'm admitting that things are getting too hard, and I'm not prepared to do that_.

So I take a deep, shaky breath and straighten up, reaching for the bills. But among them is a leaflet, glossy and posh-looking, so much so that I almost toss it away. But taking a closer look at the print, my heart does a backflip.

 _'Help Wanted'_ , it reads.

On closer inspection, I realise that it's an advertisement for a maid job on the high-class part of town. My eyes scan over the writing and find the salary rate, and I almost choke on my own tongue. I would be earning five times what I do at the diner, more than enough to keep us living in our house, enough to keep the medication coming.

It's perfect. And since I've spent my whole life cleaning up after mom, and making sure the diner is kept squeaky clean, I have plenty of experience, and it's nothing complex.

I jot the number down on a piece of spare paper lying around on the table, and tuck it into the back pocket of my skinny jeans. It's much too late to call now, but I can try in the morning.

This could be the start of something new. I'll be able to look after myself and mom properly, without worrying if there's any food left in the fridge, or if I have enough money in my wallet to buy the meds she needs. I just hope they offer me the job, though I doubt there will be many applicants. Not many people strive to be maids, that much is obvious. But there are worse jobs than cleaning, right?

And I'll be able to witness first hand, how the other half live. The address is located in the better part of town, and I'm willing to bet the owners are pretty well off.

I get up from the table and head over to the sink, splashing my face with cold water from the tap. Glancing up at the window, I see my reflection, and I recoil at the sight. My skin is pale and tired, and dark circles lie under my eyes.

I look like I haven't slept in a week. But that's to be expected; I spend every night tossing and turning on the lumpy mattress, worrying over every little thing. On a whole, I'd say I get - at most - four hours sleep. Which is nowhere near enough, I'm aware.

I exit the kitchen and flip off the light switch, and after checking on mom for the last time, I head upstairs. I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower, keeping the water on medium heat so I don't waste all the hot water.

I strip off my clothes and step into the stream of water, sighing as it soothes my aching muscles. I've always enjoyed showers, it gives me a good amount of space to think, without anybody interrupting me. I reach for the shampoo and lather it into my waist-length hair.

I've debated over a hundred times whether or not I should get it chopped off - more often than not, it's always getting in my way and it's not very easy to tame. But mom always liked my hair long, and I'm sure if she was in the right state of mind, she would tell me to keep it how it is now. Dad used to like it too, and when I was young, he would always call me his little Rapunzel.

I miss him, a lot, actually. But I don't always have the time to grieve his death, but in a way, I'm glad. I don't want to dwell on something that I cannot change. I visit his grave as often as I can, and take some flowers.

Mom hasn't been since the initial funeral, which feels like a lifetime ago.

After a fairly quick shower, I change into a pair of sleep shorts and a ragged, old sweatshirt and walk into my room.

The wallpaper is peeling away from the walls, and the paint is chipping, rather quickly. I slide under my sheets and wrap them around me tightly, shivering. I've never been able to afford any heating, so we've had to make do. In the summer months it was fine, but now it's getting closer to winter.. not so much.

But if I get this maid job, I'll be able to fork out for some decent heating, and I won't spend every night feeling as if I'm freezing to death.

Mom is fine downstairs, as I wrap her up in as many blankets as I can find, but I doubt she'd notice, anyway.

I look over at my beside table, to see the framed picture that has sat there for a solid year, not moving an inch. It's a picture of the last family holiday we had together - posing for the picture in front of 'The Bean' in Chicago.

Dad always wanted to visit it, he was always into that kind of artistic architecture. All I saw was a huge metal structure, but he saw more. He always saw more.

My eyes peel away from dad and move to mom, who is smiling - something I haven't seen her done for a long, long time. Caleb is there too, mid laugh, looking lighter than ever. I should find it somewhere inside of me to forgive him for what he's done to us, but I just can't. He might as well have left us for dead. He's certainly no brother of mine. Not anymore. And that's all down to him. It was his choice.

I'm in that picture too, stood beside Dad, grinning at the camera, like I hadn't a care in the world. And I guess, back then, I didn't. Everything was great. I had a great group of friends, a loving family, good grades, a promising future. But that all slipped through my fingers and shattered like glass. I tried picking up the pieces, but I couldn't do it - only Dad could have done that, and he was gone.

I had to watch my once "promising future", fade away, and there was nothing that I could do to get it back. I wish there was a way I could travel back to that time. I could make the most of my time with my parents, while they were still the same.

I would've given my dad more hugs, and I would've appreciated all the things mom did for us, a lot more than I had back then. But it's all wishful thinking. I can't go back and live everything again. I'm here, and I have to accept what has happened.

I'm trying. And isn't that what matters? The countless bills on the table beg to differ. Trying my best is no longer good enough. I have to do better, be stronger, push myself to earn the money we need.

I roll over so my back faces the picture frame, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I can't keep thinking about the past, it hurts too much to remember all of the things that I could've - and should have - done to make things better for us, to appreciate my parents more. I didn't realise that I could lose them like I have.

My wet hair sticks to my cheek, and my body continues to shiver. I let my mind drift, and I fly away from this house, away from this town. That's what I wanted more than anything, back then. To escape this town, and to attend college, just like I've always strived to do. But things change, I suppose.

I bury my face into my pillow, and for the first time in a long time, I fall asleep almost straight away.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Yup, back with another story! I'm really pumped about this idea, and I hope you guys like it so far. It took me a while to write this chapter, as I wanted it to be as good as it could be for you!**

 **A little insight to the story itself - it's a modern day AU, and is a romantic Four/Tris story, but will involve lots of drama and angst, which isn't exactly new for me. But it will be fluffy and is ultimately the struggle to maintain their relationship. For now, the story is rated T, but if you guys are wanting some lemons in the mix, leave a review and let me know!**

 **Lastly, I don't own the rights to Divegent or it's characters. I am just borrowing them for this original fan fiction story!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	2. Chapter 2

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 2 {Tobias' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

I raise my glass to my lips, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, awkwardly.

I've always hated social events like these, and ironically, Nita finds any possible reason to host or attend them, meaning I get dragged along too. I should be used to it, really - even as a boy, mother would bring me along to all of the Country Club events, as well as the frequent dinner parties, hosted by her friends.

But even now, I can't stand it. I have to hang around and make small talk with the most predictable people possible - seriously, I could already know what they're about to say before they even opened their mouth. Conversation - obviously - proves to be incredibly uninspiring.

Nita stands at my side, and has been doing so for the majority of the night, like her hip is glued to mine. We definitely look like a couple, not just because of our proxemics, but there's also evidence in our colour coordinated outfits; chosen by Nita, might I add.

She insisted that I would have to wear my navy shirt, so that it would match her dress, the one that she had purchased specifically for this, which meant that there was no way that I could get out of it.

"Smile a little, would you?" She hisses as we walk away from the group of people we were just talking to, most of which I wasn't familiar with. "At least, try to appear that you're enjoying yourself, as a gentleman would do to please his fiancé."

"I'm sorry, but you know that I'm not good with all of this socialising stuff. It's just so.. awkward, don't you think?" I say, attempting to defend myself.

"You just need to try a little harder, Tobias. Then maybe you'd be able to connect with people with ease, just as I do."

I want to argue further, but I know that this isn't at all the right time or place. So I just sigh and take a drink from my glass, emptying it.

"Hey, you see the two people over there, talking to the Dawsons'?" She says, nudging me a little. "The editors of People Magazine. I have contacts over there, and when I mentioned our little get-together, they decided to come along! Great, right?"

"Yes, great." I echo, just to please her.

Scanning the room, my eyes fall upon Zeke, over at the canapé selection table, and I take the opportunity to talk to a semi-normal person. "Zeke looks a little lonely, I'm going to go talk to him for a couple minutes."

"I'll come with you." She offers.

"No, that's quite alright," I say, trying to discreetly shuffle away. "Why don't you go talk with the editors you were talking about? I'm sure they will love you, just like I do."

Her cheeks glow with pride and she gives me a swift kiss on the cheek, before straightening her dress and walking away, for the first time this evening. Sighing in a state of relief, I make my way over to the other side of the room, where Zeke is, taking a shot, and looking very out of place among the gathered guests. But that's what's great about him.

He grins as he sees me approach. "What's up, dude? Finally managed to escape the wrath of Nita?"

"Shut up," I say, rolling my eyes. "I just needed some space away from all of that. Seriously, my brain feels like it's about to implode, any second now."

"I don't see why I'm dragged along to these stupid gatherings, or whatever you prefer to address them as. But mom is desperate to find me a "life companion", or something like that." He huffs, glaring the floor.

"Maybe she's right," I shrug, and he raises an eyebrow at me. "I mean, you always say how you're perfectly fine with being on your own, but don't you think it'd be nice to have someone around?"

"Maybe that's what you want, dude, but not me. All that lovey-dovey crap ties, y'know? I can do what I want, when I want, and _who_ I want."

"I'm not sure what I want anymore, Zeke." I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face, tiredly. He looks at me, question in his expression. "I don't know.. I just want something more than all of this. It's all just.. glitz and glamour and the only thing anyone actually cares about is who has the biggest house, or the nicest car, or the most amount of money. Does that seem right to you?"

It certainly doesn't seem right to me. Is this what life is really about? Riches and materialism? If so, then maybe I need to find a new way of life. But it's a lot easier said than done. I have ties, I have things here that I can't just abandon. But I can't help but wish for something more.

I want adventure, excitement, surprises. I want something outside of these walls, something much more valuable than anything I have in my possession right now - I want my freedom, the one thing I don't have nearly enough of.

It's a small town, full of small minded people, lacking in the ability to simply _dream_.

"No," Zeke admits. "It's not right, of course it isn't. But what can you do? We've grown up like this, it's all we've ever known. It's just the way it is." He's right - I know that, certainly. We're stuck here, and that really is just how it is to play out, as much as I hate to admit it. "And besides," he adds. "You've got Nita to think of.. you and her, well you are going to start a family sooner or later. And that's going to be it for you. Just.. don't get your head too lost in the clouds, ok?"

I look over my shoulder to glance at my fiancé, who is gushing about who-knows-what to those editors she was telling me about.

I've been with Nita for three years now, and only plucked up the courage to propose a couple months back, in the middle of July. I met her a few years after graduating high school. Not in college, though - I never felt the need to proceed onto college because I already had myself a placement at a large business firm in the city, a couple miles away from the small town I've lived in for the duration of my life.

Ironically, the company was owned by Mr Pablos - Nita's father. In the midst of a Christmas party he was hosting, I first saw Nita. It was hard not to notice her, really. She was hands down the prettiest girl there, and didn't have to try very hard to attract attention. With her caramel-toned skin, dark eyes and beautiful figure, every guy in that room had his eyes on her.

But out of everyone, she chose to talk to me that night, and managed to seduce me all the way up to her room, and it kind of went from there, I suppose. Despite her rather loud personality, we got on fairly well, and a relationship began to blossom.

I'm not sure if it was really the connection we had, or whether it had something to do with the fact that my mother was pressuring me into finally going steady with her. To this day, I'm not actually certain of what urged me to make it official. But I'm leaning towards the whole 'motherly pressure' situation.

Either way, we're both here now, and Zeke is right - marriage is a big step, and the next would naturally be having children, and starting a family together. I'm only 23 myself, so the idea of children kind of daunts me a little, though I'm not exactly against the idea.

Going back to my previous point; I'm not sure what I want anymore.

"Tobias, honey, there you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

I turn to see my mom approaching, and Zeke slips away; he's never really gotten along well with mother. She thinks he's a bad influence on me.

I've known Zeke since we started private school as freshman. My first memory of him, is the boy who set off fireworks in the teachers lounge, and ran a head butting workshop on his first day. Mom didn't approve of our friendship, and she still doesn't, not completely at least.

"Hello mother," I say, pulling up a smile and firmly keeping it in place. "It's good to see you. I feel like we haven't spoken in quite some time now."

"Ah yes, well, busy busy. Afternoon teas, galas, dinner parties.. I've been all booked up for the last couple of weeks, but I knew I had to make time to attend your little soirée, they always prove to be splendid, after all." She says, brushing her lips against both of my cheeks, quickly, yet elegantly.

"Nice of you," I say. "I'm sure Nita will be glad to see you. I know how well you both get on."

"I'm looking forward to catching up with her, definitely. She's a good woman, Tobias, and you make sure to hold on to her!"

"Of course, I wouldn't dream of letting her go, anytime soon." I say, the fake smile still stretching at my lips, and I fight hard to make sure it doesn't slip, not even for a second.

She links her arm in mine and leads me back across the room, where Nita is just finishing up her conversation.

"Nita, darling, it's so lovely to see you!" Mother exclaims, drawing her into an embrace. "You look simply magnificent! Doesn't she, Tobias?"

"Definitely." I agree, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Oh, Evelyn, you look very beautiful yourself. The diamonds are lovely, are they new?"

I stand there for a while as they gush over one another, only half listening, as my eyes wander around the room, observing each guest. The women are all dressed in fine dresses and their best jewellery, and the men are in their best suits, and I can see a dozen expensive-looking watches, even from a distance. They all look the same, it's tiring, almost.

I manage to excuse myself from the conversation and slip out of the grand hall where the guests are gathered, and out onto a connected balcony, which is empty. The night is cold, and it bears a harsh bite, but it's refreshing. The tight, claustrophobic feeling that had settled on my chest whilst inside, has eased up now, and I can breathe comfortably once more.

I lean my forearms against the stone barrier, closing my eyes for a brief moment. Chatter and soft classical music drift from the French doors behind me, but other than that, the night is silent. The sky is simply a blanket of darkness, stars scattered over it, somewhat lighting it up.

I run a hand through my newly trimmed hair, and let out a long sigh that had been building up in me for a while. As I push air out of my lungs, my breath swirls up into a white cloud, demonstrating how numbing tonight really is. But I can't say that I mind very much.

"Want some company?" A voice asks, and I look over my shoulder to see Zeke's mother - Hanna.

"That'd be nice." I say, a genuine smile curling at my lips.

Hanna has always been a special part of my life, and she's always treated me like one of her own. Growing up, my mom didn't have much to do with me, considering her busy schedule. So usually, I would have a nanny or one of the butlers would keep an eye on me while she was out. But once I met Zeke, I would start going to his place after school instead, and it was a lot of fun. Hanna would keep us well fed, and his father would take us to play baseball in the backyard, along with his younger brother, Uriah.

They are like my second family, and I was just as devestated when their father was killed, fighting in a different country, but he passed away with honour. Not having a present father of my own, Mr Pedrad's absence certainly stung.

"I'm very happy for you, you know, Tobias," she says as she stands beside me, looking out over the large driveway. "Achieving so much, for a young man, that is. Having a good, well paid job, getting engaged, keeping up a good reputation among our commmunity... but, I can't help but watch you distance yourself a little more every time we see each other. So answer me this, are you really, _truly_ happy?"

I must give it to her, Hanna Pedrad is one observant woman. And it's like she's reached inside of my mind, and picked away at my thoughts. It's scary - is my disinterest for this lifestyle so obvious? If so, I must adjust my methods of hiding my feelings. Although, I've always been good at that.

"I am happy, Hanna. Really. It's good here. I have Nita, my mother, you and Zeke... I'm happy."

"I have known you for a very long time, and I know when you're lying," she says, stepping away from the balcony. "I'm not asking for you to tell the truth to me, but I think you need to realise the truth for yourself."

And just like that, she's gone, slipping back through the doors, leaving me alone again. I huff out another cloud of white, and let my eyes close briefly.

" _You need to realise the truth for yourself_."

I can't help but ponder on those words, for longer than I probably should. What is that supposed to mean? That I don't even know the truth in my own feelings? I guess that could be correct, but how would Hanna see right through my - most convincing - act? Even my own mother can't. That is, if she even cares enough to look hard enough. Which I believe to be the truth.

But then I remember Zeke's words, " _don't get your head too lost in the clouds_ ".

My truth no longer matters, it can't, not anymore. I have to push those longing thoughts for freedom out of my head, and replace them with the prospects of family and a long life, happy memories that I can create. It has to be that way, there is no high road for me to take. Not this time.

Straightening up, I take a deep breath and turn away from the edge of the balcony, and towards the doors. As I step back in, I notice Nita emerging from a different room, a smile on her face. As she gets sight of me, she walks briskly over and beams brighter.

"Good news," she says. "I've just been on the phone with a girl interested in the maid postition we advertised. We need a new one as soon as possible, so I guess it's first come, first served. She's due to come over tomorrow, so I can check her out, see if she's right for us."

"That's great; we do need someone to take that post immediately. Did she seem ok on the phone? I want somebody we can trust in our home, Nita."

"She sounded perfectly normal. Well, as normal as you can sound over the phone," she confirms. "Her name is -"

"How about we discuss it later on, babe. We have guests, after all." I interrupt, throwing in a pet name to make it seem sweeter, so she doesn't get pissed at me for cutting her off. It works, as she smiles up at me and slips her hand into mine, dragging me over to another gaggle of people, of whom we apparently haven't spoken to yet.

As the night continues to drag on, the small amount of alcohol I've consumed doesn't do much to distract me. I've had what feels like a hundred people talk my ear off, regarding work, the house, or even my engagement. But it's always just the same mindless chatter, and when the last person finally leaves, I can't help that sense of relief that washes over me.

I collapse on one of the bar stools and offer a quick smile to the man who runs my small, private bar, tucked away at the back of the house - Fernando.

"How about a Jack on the Rocks." I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

Fernando begins to fix my drink like a pro, and I can't stop myself from watching in admiration. I could've worked in a bar somewhere, I'm sure a lot of young adults do. I don't drink often, but when I do, I definitely can appreciate my liquor.

"Good night, Mr Eaton?" He asks as he slides my glass across the bar, towards me.

"What do you think?" I counter, good-heartedly.

He smiles a little and continues to shine up some wine glasses. "Free drinks, posh food and company can't be all that bad, surely."

"No, there could be much worse scenarios, of course. But you experience enough of those ridiculous "soirées", the effect tends to lessen a little." I say, shaking my head before I take a long drink.

"I can't say that I've ever been in your position," Fernando reasons. "I never had all of these fine things growing up. You're lucky, really."

I'm tired of everybody saying that - " _you're lucky_ ". Because I have wealth and somewhat of a source of power, they all believe that I am so lucky. And I guess I am, on a first glance. But look deeper, and it's not hard at all to see the cracks running through all of my possessions.

I may have my large house and my expensive car to show for myself, but it's all materialism, is it not? What about the stuff that really matters? Nobody ever thinks about that, though. I'm just assumed to be one of the regular old rich folk.

I finish up my drink rather quickly and bid Fernando goodnight, as he gathers his belongings, heading home for the night. I ascend the grand staircase, and turn left, pushing open the door to our bedroom.

Nita sits at the vanity, brushing out her hair, now changed into her silk nightgown. She smiles as she catches me watching her in the reflection of the mirror.

"Did you enjoy tonight?" She asks. "I certainly did. We shall have to do it again in the future. I'm sure we can make some room in our schedule to fit a brunch, or perhaps a social afternoon tea?"

"Maybe." I say, smiling weakly. I strip off my suit and shirt, and crawl into bed in only my Calvin's. I sit up, resting against the headboard, as Nita begins to remove her makeup with a wipe.

"So, as I was saying earlier - regarding the maid job - well, the girl does seem genuine, but I want to meet her just in case. She sounds very enthusiastic, and informed me that she has a background with cleaning jobs," she says, and I don't like the tone she uses. "As _if_ a cleaning job can actually be put on a resume. It's not exactly hard to clean a toilet, is it?"

"But you've never done it for yourself, Nita," I say, scowling a little. "Not everybody can afford to live without a job, you know. People have to do whatever they can, and cleaning can be a part of that."

She glances over her shoulder to glare at me, her dark eyes narrowed dangerously. "And that is unfortunate. But I can't help having money. Maybe they do have to clean for a living, which doesn't exactly bother me, in fact - it benefits me!"

"Well, promise me you'll only hire her if she actually appears to be normal," I plead. "I'm not here tomorrow, as I've got an important meeting, so it'll be down to you to give her the interview and such."

"Obviously," she scoffs, rising from her stool and switching off the main light, the lamp to my left now being the only source of light. "I wouldn't allow you to do it. You'd glare at her so much that she would just shrivel up before you could even ask her name. You have to work on your social skills, Tobias. Tonight is just one prime example of your lack of them. It's getting a little embarrassing. Think about how that makes me feel!"

"I'm sorry. I know I need to work on it, and I'm sorry that I was embarrassing you. It won't happen again, you can count on it."

She slips under the covers beside me and reaches over to kiss my cheek. "You know I only say all those things to help you. It's because I care, and I don't want you to hide away in your shell for all your life, baby. You understand that, don't you?"

"Of course, I appreciate your concern." I say, dragging up a somewhat convincing smile.

After one more kiss, she turns off the lamp, leaving us in complete darkness. I turn my face into the pillow and release a shaky breath.

And one thought rushes around my head, in a burst of energy - _when will my life truly begin?_

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Second chapter, whoop! The response I've gotten from you guys in only one chapter is amazing, and it makes me very happy to know that you are all excited for this story to play out, and that you all enjoyed the first chapter!**

 **A lot of you guys reviewed and PM'd me requesting for lemons in upcoming chapters, so that is something that I will incorporate later on in the story. At that point, I will ensure the rating is changed from T to M!**

 **Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter :)**

 **-GuiltyMind**


	3. Chapter 3

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 3 {Tris' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

It's warmer today, so I'm not freezing to death as I wait for the bus to arrive.

Usually, I get to places by foot, as it's much cheaper. But this interview is across town, and I think today would be okay to pay for actual transport - after all, if I get this job, I'd be able to buy myself a whole bus company. Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but that amount of money could change our lives.

I _have_ to get this.

It's almost midday, so there's a good amount of traffic on the roads, and someone walks by me every so often. And I can put names to faces, instantly. That's the kind of stuff that comes with living in such a small town. But as Dad used to say, small means safe.

Despite it being so tiny, there are easily identifiable lines between us all - the lower class, and the higher class. It's as if we're separated into two different towns, and I'm not sure whether that's such a bad thing.

Around here, I fit in. Because everyone has the same struggles as I do. There are no judging looks, no snobby personalities... as soon as I step foot into that side of town, I know I'll receive all of those things, which is to be expected. Society is a mess, and there's not much anybody can do to fix it.

The bus shudders to a halt next to the kerb, and the doors slide open. I pay the driver what I owe, and make my way towards the back, lowering myself down into a window seat. The bus is fairly busy, but there are spare seats dotted around.

I look out of the window as the bus goes on, sweeping through the streets.

I told Mom all about the job interview this morning, while I was helping her take her meds. And although she probably didn't hear a word of what I was saying, I'm holding out hope, and telling myself that she did hear it, and understood it.

I'm going to get this job. For her. With my wages, I could not only afford more things around the house to make us comfier, but I could make sure she gets the professional help she clearly is needing. If not.. well, I hate to think of how bad things could get with her.

After that thought washes over my mind, I pinch my leg, hard. I can't have thoughts like that. It won't do me any good, and I have to stay focused and optimistic, especially now.

I take my time in observing the people on the bus, distracting myself from the fear stirring around inside of me, threatening to push me into panic-mode. There aren't many people my age, I notice. Mainly old people on the way into town, and a mother with a toddler.

However, there is a gang of Sophomore-looking teenagers, presumably bunking off school. They laugh and slouch across their seats, tapping away at their high-tech cellphones.

I almost laugh. A bunch of teenagers possess such expensive electronic gear, and I don't even have my own cellphone. If I want to call anyone, I'll have to use the pay phone across the street from my house. It'd be nice to have a cellphone, though. But they don't just fall out of trees, I'm afraid.

Thankfully, it doesn't take very long to get to my stop, and the driver gives me an odd look as I step off. I got given very detailed directions on how to get to the house, and I've got the actual addresss scribbled on a piece of paper hidden in the pocket of my sweatershirt.

I can't help but feel intimidated as I wander down the street, constantly straightening my shirt, self consciously. The cars the drive by are no longer battered and cheap, instead, they look as if they've come straight out of one of those fancy vehicle magazines.

This neighbour hood isn't very big, but boy is it glamorous. All the houses I pass leave me in awe, unable to believe that people can actually afford to live in places like that. The whole idea is crazy to me. And the fact that I've got the opportunity to work in one of these houses is as equally unbelievable.

This will at least show me how the other half are able to live, and I don't have to see it first hand to know that it's a lot easier.

A mix of spite and envy make my chest ache. A part of me wants to hate those who are able to live around here, but I can't help but long to just be them. But that's understandable, really. Wouldn't everybody feel like that in my position? I would like to think so.

The house I'm supposed to be having my interview is at the edge of the neighbour hood, and a large set of black gates block my patch to the driveway. Frowning a little, I spot a little callbox to my left, and press down on the little button.

"How may I help you?" A posh-sounding voice crackles from the small metal box.

"Er - well, I've got an interview with Nita Pablos, regarding the maid position? On our telephone conversation, she specifically instructed me to come here -"

Before I can finish, the gates shudder open, pushing away from me and opening up the long driveway. I smooth down my hair quickly as I walk, and straighten my shirt one last time.

As I near the actual house, my jaw drops a little. The house itself is beautiful in design and archetecture, the lady who lives here - Nita - must have a great eye for design. There are all kinds of magnificent, exotic-looking plants that grow around the driveway, as well as the large stone fountain planted in the middle. Even the stone beneath my feet looks expensive, and I didn't even realise that could be possible.

A small flight of marble steps lead up to the grand, double front door, with shiny silver handles. But before I can knock, the door opens and a man in a butler get-up stands in front of me, professional vibes radiating from him, intensely.

"Miss Prior, we've been expecting you." He says as he moves aside, gesturing for me to come in.

I step inside and try to suppress my gasp. If I thought the outside was great, the interior of the house is simply magnificent.

Shiny, marble floor is beneath my feet, and every piece of furniture is classy and sophisticated, and colour is coordinated perfectly. A large chandelier hangs above my head, glistening in the sunlight that streams through the French windows that line the walls.

"I'm not late, am I?" I ask, anxiously.

"Right on time, Miss." He assures me, as he closes the door, and I sigh in relief. Punctuality is always a good trait in a potential employee, so I'm glad that I managed to arrive on time.

Before I can have any more time to gawk at the grand entrance hall, I hear heels clicking against marble, and my eyes snap towards the source. A woman is gracefully descending the large staircase, despite wearing rather high heels.

I suddenly become even more self conscious of my appearance, now in the presence of this woman. She looks like a million dollars, in her gorgeous blue dress, and diamonds around her neck. Her skin is the colour of a dark caramel, complimenting her dark eyes. Her figure is one that I've longed for - all softness and curves, rather than my compact size and lack of womanly shape.

She flashes me a smile, revealing a set of bright white and straight teeth. "You must be Tris Prior," she says as she reaches the foot of the stairs. "I'm glad you could make it on such short notice."

"Of course, I'm grateful for the opportunity." I answer, straightening up a little; I want to seem confident, not timid.

"I'm Nita Pablos, but you will refer to me as Miss Pablos," she says, brushing non-existent specks of dirt away from her dress. "All of our staff do, so you will be no different - that is, if we decide to hire you."

" _We_?" I ask, unable to hide my curiousity. I was under the assumption that she lived alone here.

"Yes, my fiancé and I. He isn't here at this current moment; a work call, meetings have him booked up all day." She answers, her tone sounding almost bored. "So, shall we get on with the tour?"

"Lead the way.. Miss Pablos."

"So, this is the living area, where we spend most of our time catching up on movies," she says, guiding me into a connecting room, the size of my whole house.

There are plush, cream leather couches, decorated with throw pillows. There's a wide screen TV hung up on the wall, along with a dozen bookshelves, all decked out with books, vinyl records and trinkets. A glass coffee table sits under the TV, with a vase of white roses sat atop. The cost of everything in this room alone, would probably amount to what I earn in a year. This is seriously crazy.

Then we move on to the luxurious dining room, that's all colour coordinated and decorated in a classic yet chic way. As I've said before, Nita - _Miss Pablos_ , has a spectacular eye for design. Perhaps that's what she works in? Interior design? That's if she even has a job. She never mentioned it, but she's managed to brag about anything she can as she guides me in and out of different rooms.

I'm not sure what to make of her just yet, but the general vibe I'm getting isn't a good one. Ok, maybe that's a little harsh. She just seems a little.. self-centred, I suppose. And I've never done well accepting those kinds of people. But if I want to get this job, I'll just have to force a smile and pretend it doesn't bother me. I can do that, I'm sure.

The kitchen is especially grand - shiny, granite counters, topped with all the new, modern appliances. There's a large island in the middle of the room, with glossy magazines scattered across it. Even supposed clutter like that seem to appear neat and tidy, as if their place has been calculated and worked out already.

Back at home, there's all kinds of random things dotted around, making everything appear rather sloppy. But this isn't like that, not one bit.

 _If I get this job, I'll have one heck of a cleaning schedule_ , I think to myself.

"Your house is lovely." I say, looking around with an undisguised awe.

"It is, isn't it?" She smiles. "Well, we had the best builders in the country come and work on it, as well as a handful of professional interior designers."

"They definitely did a good job."

"I know, and I'm glad they did, with the amount we paid them for the job." She says, before turning around and leading me out of the kitchen.

As we enter what I think is an office, I spot a girl in the corner, dusting away at a bookshelf. "Christina," Nita says, and the girl turns to face us. "This is Tris Prior, she may be taking Ava's place, if her interview goes well. Tris, this is Christina. Our other maid."

"It's nice to meet you." I say, nicely, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

"And you," Christina replies, giving me a big smile. "I'll leave you two alone. Let me know if there is anything I can get you." She leaves out of the door we entered through, closing it behind her.

She was very pretty, I noticed. Similar looking to Nita actually - the same skin tone and shape. Maybe working here will be harder than I thought, especially if all the staff make me feel so inferior.

Nita gestures for me to take a seat, so I slide into the leather chair opposite the big oak desk, of which she sits the other side of.

"So, tell me more about your work experience," she says, resting her forearms atop of the glossy wood. "You mentioned that you have some cleaning history?"

"Well, I've been working at a diner in my neighbourhood since I was a Junior, and still work there now. I work as a waitress, but I get paid extra if I stay behind and clean too, which I've been doing for a while," I answer, crossing my ankles, nervously. "And it's just me and my mom at home.. and it's me who does the cleaning and all, so I do have a couple years experience under my belt."

She doesn't seem very impressed, and I'm not surprised. My job resume isn't outstanding, but I do know how to clean. Even she can't deny that.

"Did you bring the documents I asked for?"

"Yeah, they're just in here.." I say, scrambling for my purse and digging out the neat compilation of information. She and her fiancé must be very wary about who they're letting into their home, which is wise, and I respect it. I've had to bring a copy of my birth certificate, phone numbers, medical history, my resume, schooling information... they're definitely thorough.

I can't help but detect her hesitation before taking them from me. It was only a split second, but I picked up on it. I supresss an eye roll, but remain neutral.

"This is great, thank you," she says, tucking them away in a drawer connected to the underside of the desk. "I'll look those over with my fiancé when he returns. May I ask why you think you're the right candidate for this position?"

"I think that I'd be a great asset to your staffing team; I've got a good sense of time management, I'm able to get on well with others, and I listen to instructions," I say. "I really would like the opportunity to work here, and I'm so grateful that you're even considering me."

"Calm down, it's just a maid job, not an internship for the president." She laughs, but there's little humour behind it. My fists clench at my sides and I bite my tongue, withholding a mouthful of abuse that I could so easily fire at her. But I _need_ this job.

"Sorry, but this job could really help me out," I say, fighting to keep my tone light. "We are a little strapped for cash right now, and this job could turn it all around for my mom and I. So I do hope you consider hiring me, I wouldn't let you down."

"I can't say that I understand what it's like to have money problems like you. I mean, look around. I've never had to live without all my luxuries," she says, gesturing around to the room we are sat in. "But you being in a lower class than me will not effect your chances at this job, I can assure you."

"That's great, thank you." I say, faking a pleased, grateful smile.

"My fiancé and I will make sure to contact you as soon as possible," she adds. "We prefer to be punctual and direct, so expect a positive or negative call from us by Monday Evening. Will you be available then?"

"Yes, I'll make sure to be available for contact over the weekend, thanks again."

"If you are to get the job, I will arrange a day for you to learn the ropes and take a full tour of the house - I'll assign Christina to you, as you are around the same age, I'm sure you'll be able to learn a thing or two from her." She says, and I nod along.

"That'd be great," I say, standing up from the hard leather armchair. "Would this job be a full-time thing? Are you aware of what shift times we are talking -"

"The job will certainly be full time," she interrupts. "Including weekends. Christina's shift every day goes from 7am to 10pm, as there is much to do, aside from cleaning. There are a number of tasks that need handling, that I'm sure you'd be able to rise to. Is there a problem with those times?"

I bite down on my bottom lip, fiddling with the straps of my purse. I've always had a couple hours spare between my jobs to make sure Mom is okay, and to give her the meds she needs for that day - even if she could move up from the couch, I'd never be able to trust her with drugs that she could easily overdose on. Who knows what she'd do to herself.

But maybe if I left the right amount out on the table for her, she'd be okay. It's a bad situation, but without this job, we'd be in even more shit. I have no other choice.

"That's perfectly fine," I assure her. "I'll be waiting for that phone call, and I really hope you consider me, Miss Pablos. Thank you for your time."

The butler who let me inside is the one to show me back out, and I give him a kind smile before leaving, which he returns. At least the people I'd be working with seem nice.

Now, I can only wait, and hope that I'm chosen.

 **-o-o-o-**

"Do you think you stand a chance? I mean, were there many applicants?" Tori asks, as she hands me my apron.

"I don't know," I sigh, slipping it on and grabbing my note pad and pen from the side, tucking it into my apron. "I feel like I made a somewhat good impression, but that Nita woman is pretty hard to read. And very rude too, I might add."

"It will feel weird, you know," she says quietly, giving me a soft kind of smile. "Not having you around here all the time. I mean, how long have you worked here for now? Four years? That's a pretty lengthy amount of time."

"It'll be weird for me too, Tori, but I don't have much choice in this. If it were up to me, I would stay here. But I have my mom to think of. The wages I'll be getting will be more than enough to have us living comfortably.. I just, well, I can't watch her waste away any longer than I already have. I need to help her to get better. And this may just be the boost I need to get me there."

"I understand. Family comes first." She says, patting my shoulder as she passes me, but I see the flash of sadness in her dark, angular eyes. Tori is like family to me, and I know I'll miss her. But my mom has to come first, and there's nothing else to it.

I've sacrificed so much in my life, and this is just another one of those things. The only way I'll get through this is if I just grit my teeth and smile my way through it. After all, it's worked for the last three years.

I vault over the front counter and land firmly on my feet. A young teenage couple are holed up in one of the booths, and a large gaggle of mum's and their children have taken over the majority of the tables.

I go over there first, and take a dozen orders of dinosaur-shaped fish sticks and coffee's. As I wait for the fish sticks, I glance at the couple in the corner, and something tugs at my stomach, and my chest aches.

I've never had a relationship, not a real one, anyhow. I had a boyfriend in my Sophmore year, and I regret ever getting with him in the first place. Peter, his name was. He was the school heart throb, but me being the naive teenage girl I was, I believed that he loved me, and that I could be the girl who changed him for good. But it's clear to me now that I was kidding myself all along.

He got what he wanted - he had sex with me at a party, when he was steaming drunk, and then dumped me the next day. I lost my virginity to that asshole, and I regret it every day.

When he dumped me and moved on to the next girl (victim), my heart broke into a million pieces, and I thought that my whole life was over. I had mom to comfort me then; back when she was happy and carefree, and it was her looking after me, rather than the other way around.

After that, I never dated again, since I was too terrified that I'd have my heart broken again. And then Dad died, and I had to quit school, get jobs and grow up.. I never had the time to start dating anybody, and I'm not sure I ever will. I'll have to spend my whole life taking care of my mom, so I'll never have the opportunity to meet a guy.

Seeing couples around town and in the diner makes my chest hurt and anger bubble up inside of me, but I ignore it, every time. After all, there's not much I can do to fix it. There's not much anyone can do.

"Tris? Tris Prior?"

My eyes snap to attention, and still on the doorway, where a girl stands, hand in hand with a boy. I instantly recognise her as Myra Jones and her boyfriend Edward Henry - I'm not surprised to see that they are still an item, they were always joined at the hip in high school, even in our Freshman year. I wasn't exactly close with Myra, but we were sort of friends, I guess.

She attended my father's funeral - along with most of the community - and held my hand as I cried. She gave me strength on that day, and I wish I had taken the time to become a better friend to her.

"Hey!" I say, smiling. "What are you two doing back in town? Last I heard, you both had scholarships to Stanford!"

They approach the counter and sit at the bar stools, grinning back at me. "We're back for the weekend, to spend time with our families and see everyone, y'know?" Edward answers.

"That'll be nice, I'm sure they've missed you, and you them."

"Well.. what about you, Tris?" Myra asks, cautiously, her smile slipping a little. "What are you doing here?"

"I think you and I both know the answer to that question," I say, softly. "No college for me, not after dropping out and all. Plus, my mom needs me around."

"How is she doing? I mean, I know things were hard for her after your dad passing..."

"Yeah, she's doing better," I lie, plastering a false smile onto my face, attempting to be as convincing as possible. "But I can't leave her, not after everything she's already lost."

"I'm pleased to hear that, Tris." Edward chips in.

"Anyway," I clear my throat, trying to ignore the guilt stirring around inside of my stomach. "What's going on with y'all? College must be pretty cool, right?"

"Well, now that you mention it, there is a little something..." Myra says, blushing as she glances over at Edward who is smiling widely, and that's when I notice the ring. An engagement ring, to be exact.

"Wow, guys, that's amazing! Seriously - I'm really happy for you both." I exclaim, and Myra holds up her hand to give me a closer look at the beautiful, sapphire-encrusted ring.

Tori retrieves the fish sticks and drinks, giving me space to talk to my old friends, and I give her a small smile in thanks.

"What about you, Tris? Have you found your knight in shining armour yet?" Myra asks, looking over my fingers for a ring, that doesn't exist.

"Nah," I say, waving it off as if I couldn't care less. "I'm too busy working for all that. And besides, I know pretty much everyone in this town - at least, the ones who live in our area - so if I had met the guy of my dreams, I would already know about it."

"He's out there, I know it."

"Whatever, I'm not bothered about all of that, anyhow," I shrug, leaning forward on the counter with my forearms. "So, what can I get you?"

As I prepare their milkshakes, I can't help but wish I was more like Myra - with her perfect family, high school sweetheart (soon to be husband), and a college scholarship, the freedom that lies outside of this small town... she has everything, and all of the things I wish I had.

Who am I compared to her? A waste of a teenager, still living in her hometown, working at the same diner, with the same shit weighing me down. I'm not important, not even in the slightest.

But still, I wish for things that people like me have no chance of getting. It's stupid. Is it bad to want things? Because I want so much more than what this life has to offer me.

And the worst part? I'm never going to get it.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Yay a new chapter! Sorry it took me a while to update, but I've been a little busy at the minute, but I did make this chapter a little longer, to make up for it!**

 **I hope you all enjoyed, and picked up on the relationship history for Tris - I wanted to add that in just to give you an insight to Tris's view on dating (before she meets Tobias, that is!)**

 **This story has already been given a lot of support, and I want to thank all of you! I really hope y'all continue to enjoy my work. Let me know what you thought of this chapter by dropping me a review!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	4. Chapter 4

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 4 {Tris' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

"So, this is it, I guess." I say, leaning against the front counter, my shoulders drooping.

Tori turns to me after taking off her apron, the corners of her mouth turned down. "Yes, I believe that this is the end of your time here."

"I'm sure I'll be back, I doubt I'll be up to their standards, anyway." I say, laughing, but it's forced.

"Don't discredit yourself, Tris," she says, shaking her head. "You'll do great. I know you will. But you are always welcome here, no matter what happens."

"This place will always be like a second home to me. Whether I'm working here as a waitress, or missing it when I'm dusting bookshelves."

"And you make sure you come in and visit if you get the chance," she says, pointing her finger at me. "I'll be waiting to hear all the latest."

"Sure." I say, smiling weakly. There's a dull ache in my chest; I know that it's unlikely that I'll have the time to visit, considering my shift times. But I can't bring myself to tell her, athough, I think she may already know for herself.

"I'll have to put out job advertisements, to get you a replacement. Maybe one of the high school kids may be looking to make some extra cash, just as you once were." Tori says as she locks up the register.

"Yeah, there will be some teenager out there looking for a part-time job, I'm sure of it," I assure her. "But are you sure you'll be ok on your own until you get a replacement?"

"Of course, I ran this place without you once, and I'm sure I can do it again." She teases, half heartedly.

"Yeah, but you had Bud then.."

I watch her smile slip, and she sags against the counter, the opposite side to me, and I wish I'd never mentioned it. Bud is her husband, and he used to run the diner with her, before I began my job here.

He got in a bad motor cycle accident, and was in a coma for a couple days, but he eventually woke. But he had long-term back injury, which meant he was confined to a wheelchair for a long time, until he was strong enough to use crutches.

Now he can safely manoeuvre around the house using those crutches, but is in no position to be going back to work, meaning Tori had to run the diner by herself, with only one part-time waitress, so she put out a job advert - and that's how I found out about it, and applied.

I've met Bud a handful of times, and he really is sweet, which proves my theory - bad things always happen to the best kinds of people. I never usually bring him up in conversation, since Tori gets upset about the whole ordeal, and I can understand that. So I feel guilty about this slip-up.

A ghost of a smile pulls at her lips, as if remembering something. "We met in a diner, you know," she tells me. "Our senior year of high school. He was the school dreamboat, and I was the quiet Emo girl who sat at the back of the class. I'd have never imagined us together, not in a million years, but it just felt so right. And the diner that once stood here became our special place, where we would come and spend our time together, away from school and parents and worries."

"So what happened?" I ask, unable to help myself. "I mean, you had to hire builders for this place, right? Wasn't this just a plot of empty space before you bought it?"

"We went away to college together, and when we returned to see family during spring break, it had been burned to the ground by a gang of sorts. All our special memories, our meeting place.. just gone," she explains. "And then after we finished college, Bud looked into the price of the old diner land, and we took out a loan.. it was our dream to rebuild a diner of our own, to recreate the memories we made together, and so that others could experience their own, just as we had. This was our dream, and we had made it into a reality. And even though he can longer help me out here, his presence is everywhere. All the decor, the quirky menu items he came up with.."

A smile tugs at my lips, but there's also a pang of longing inside of me; wishing that I could fine something as special as Tori did with Bud. They not only succeeded in making their dreams come true, but they also had each other. They had _love_.

"That's so sweet." I say, sliding on to one of the stools. This seems to break her out of her reminiscing moment, and she straightens up, the dreamy look that once captured her eyes, now gone.

"I was hoping that you'd bring that special guy in here one of these days." She adds.

My eyes roll back dramatically. "Well, you know what they say about hope - it breeds eternal misery."

"There is someone out there waiting for you, Tris," she tells me. "You're young and beautiful, and there's going to be a man as equally amazing as you are."

I'm not sure what qualities I'd look for in a guy. I guess I've never really thought about it. They'd definitely have to be kind, I'd never go for a shit stick like Peter Hayes again, biggest mistake of my life. And they'd also have to be outgoing. Adventurous, maybe.

But there's nobody like that in this town, and I'd know - I've met them all. And it's not like I'll ever escape this provincial life, anyway. The lights of the city are simply out of the question.

"Whatever," I shrug. "I don't need a knight in shining armour to save the day; I can do that all by myself, thank you very much."

"I don't doubt that for a second." She laughs, as she rounds the counter, so that she stands right next to me now.

"Do you mind if I stay a little longer? I could lock up? I'll leave out back, and hide the key under the third dumpster along, just like always." I ask, looking up at her.

"Of course," Tori agrees, a look of understanding crossing her features. She hands over the key and rests a hand on my shoulder, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "I wish you all the best, Tris. You are like a daughter to me, and it will always stay that way. You take care of yourself now."

She turns away and walks towards the front door, but looks over her shoulder before opening it up.

"Goodnight for the last time, Tris Prior."

A watery smile is on my lips as I say, "Goodnight for the last time, Tori Wu."

And then she's gone, and it's only me in the diner, the sound of the clock ticking chipping away at the silence. A sigh escapes my mouth, and I run my fingers through my hair. I can't believe that this is it, that my time here is up.

I got a call on Sunday from Nita - sorry, _Miss Pablos_ , informing me that I have been given the maid position. To say that I was psyched was an understatement, though I fought to stay professional during the phone call. But I would be lying if I said that I didn't let out a squeal when I hung up.

Things like this don't just happen to girls like me, but the fact that it has is leading me to believe that maybe my luck is about to change. Maybe. I hope so.

It's now Tuesday, and I'm supposed to be starting tomorrow - as promised, it's been arranged that my first day will be spent learning the ropes, Christina being my supervisor. I just hope she's not uptight, and we're able to get along; it'll make working there that much easier.

Apparently, I'll be meeting the seemingly mysterious fiancé, who is yet to make an appearance. If he's anything like Nita - which I expect he will be - I'm going to have to cut out my tongue to stop me from spitting out profanities when they piss me off. But I need this job, which means I have to do my set duties, sufficiently and thoroughly.

I assured Miss Pablos that I was up to the job, and I'm not all bark and no bite, so I must meet my word, which I know that I can do.

I glance around the diner, and I know that it's going to be hard to walk away from this, but it's neccesary. I have to take care of my mom, and the only way I can effectively do that is if I get a good-paying job. But living on one minimum wage paycheque isn't enough, nowhere near.

I approach the booth at the back of the right corner, running the pads of my fingers over the tabletop. Back in high school, my friends and I would come here every Friday night, for fries and milkshakes. We would sit around and talk, take pictures of one another, chat about boys, gossip about the drama happening during that particular week - your average teenage girl antics, really.

Then I turn to look at the stools that face the large window, that overlooks the street. Caleb and I would come here to study sometimes; when Mom had her book club over, or dad was watching the football with his pals. We would bring our books, order a cola float, and just study together.

With this being the only decent diner around, it's a hot place for teenagers to hang out, and they make up the majority of our customers.

I'm not sure whether that memory is a good one, though. Because Caleb is no longer the boy I used to sit here with, making flash cards. No, he couldn't be more different. And it's definitely not a change for the better.

He once used to be modest when it came to his brain capacity, and how clever he really was, but now he enjoys using his intellect to make him appear better than everyone else. He's arrogant, deluded and selfish. He's no brother of mine, and never will be again.

He abandoned us when we needed him the most, and doesn't care about us. Dad would be so ashamed if he saw him right now, I just know it. We were raised properly, to be good, selfless citizens. But Caleb strayed from that path. I'm not sure whether it had something to do with the impact of dad's death, or maybe he just grew up and became a giant dick.

Either way, I want nothing to do with him.

Tori made some memories at her diner, and I made some in this one. Maybe I didn't meet the love of my life over a Sloppy Joe, but I did create moments here that I'll carry with me, and that won't change now that I've got a new job, and am having to move on.

I head over to the counter and grab an iced cookie from the glass jar, and then secure the lid back on. I hop up onto the countertop and nibble at the cookie, my legs swinging. These iced cookies are my specialities (next to my beignets), and I have been making them for a long while.

I remember when it was a particularly slow day, and Tori had bought her four year old daughter - Summer - into work, because their babysitter had cancelled. So as Tori served out front, I stayed in the back, teaching Summer how to make iced cookies. She is a very pretty girl, and resembles Tori in many ways - from the raven hair, to the dark, angular eyes. She was pretty good at icing, for a four year old, I must admit.

That day, I came home with a smile on my face, which is a rare occurance; going home to your intensely depressed mother isn't something to smile about, obviously.

After finishing the brightly decorated cookie, I plant my feet back on the ground and lock up the front door before beginning to stack up chairs on tables.

I flick off the light switches, and slip out of the backdoor, locking it behind me. I hide the key where it is usually placed, and migrate back onto the main street, away from the dumpsters.

It's late, later than I believed it to be, and there's not a soul in sight. The street lights are dull, giving out minimal light, and I begin the walk home, stuffing my hands deep in my pockets, shielding them from the cold.

As I go further into the rougher part of the estate, there appears to be more life around. A gaggle of teenagers sit on the street corner, throwing around empty beer cans, and chugging new ones. I stand taller, and quicken my pace - around here, ducking your head and slinking away into the shadows makes you more of a target than if you just walk by with confidence.

But still, a few of them holler things like, "I'd tap that", or "Damn, what I would do to an ass like that". I just walk by normally, pretending that they aren't even there, and they pay no more attention to me, _thank goodness_. I'm only five foot, and rather skinny; there's no way I'd be able to fight off one guy, let alone seven.

I arrive home quickly, checking over my shoulder constantly to check that I'm not being followed, and then let myself in the front door.

 **-o-o-o-**

I wake with a scream, bolting up into a sitting position, tears wetting my cheeks and my lungs refusing to work. I wrap my arms around my legs and bury my face into my knees, struggling to breathe again.

It all felt so _real_. I heard the screech of the tires, the ambulance sirens, his strangled cries. It felt as if I was really there, watching it all, unable to do anything about it.

I haven't had a nightmare like that for over a year now, so I'm not certain of what brought this on. Perhaps it's because I'm stressing about my first day of work. Or maybe it's just some kind of unidentified grief still lurking around in my head somewhere. I'm not sure.

I used to have nightmares often as a child, though. It was usually your average scary events - strange men trying to take me from my house, ghosts, clowns.. you name it.

But I always had someone to comfort me; whether it be mom or dad. They'd rush in and soothe me and hug me as I cried. And then they'd tuck me back into bed and promise me that nothing could hurt me while they were around. And I believed it.

But as I sit here in my small, neglected room, I have nobody. There's no hugging, no comforting, no reassuring whispers in my ear. Just emptiness, and the sounds of me slightly choking on the air.

If mom heard my scream, she won't be able to understand what's happening. So I have to be able to reassure myself. I have no one left to look after me now - so just like everything I do - I must do it myself.

I sit up straight and wipe my cheeks with the heels of my hands, forcing myself to take extensive, steady breaths. Swinging my legs out of bed, I stand, startling as they make contact with the cold wooden floor.

Leaving my bedroom, I head into the bathroom across the hall and start up the shower. I strip off my pyjamas and step under the hot stream of water, letting it soothe my burning muscles, and wash away tears staining my cheeks.

I lather up my hair with shampoo and conditioner, and make sure to wash my face too. The last thing I want this morning is red, puffy eyes.

After all, I'm trying to make a good impression. After my shower, I pad back over to my bedroom, wrapped up in a towel, and open up my old, wooden closet.

Miss Pablos had my uniform sent over yesterday, and I was a little taken aback. I've been given a cliche, black and white maids outfit, like we're being taken back in time to when these kind of uniforms were normal. When I saw Christina during my interview, I failed to acknowledge what she was wearing, but now I realise that she had an exact replica of the uniform I have been given.

I put on my black bra and matching panties, and then tug the outfit over my head, adjusting it into place.

I look at myself in my mirror, and a small groan slips past my lips. It's impossibly cliche, it almost makes me want to vomit. And it's also fairly short too, I think she may have misjudged my clothing size, because any shorter, it would be a crop top.

I straighten the white, frilled apron and grab my black converse from the closet, leaving them up tightly. After drying my hair and brushing it through, I apply a little concealer under my eyes to hide the trauma of last night, and a sweep of powder to set it.

I tuck my bus money in the apron of my uniform and then exit my bedroom, descending the stairs. Glancing at the kitchen clock, I see that it is 5:56am meaning I have exactly 64 minutes to get to my job.

I drag a chair from the table over to the sink, and stand on it to reach the high cupboard, containing mom's medicines for the day. I've got to measure out the right amount and leave it on the coffee table with a glass of water.

Tori is going to be checking in on here at around midday - just before the lunch rush - to make sure she's taken the pills and to feed her some soup.

She can't have an overdose on the meds I've given her; seeing as there's so little of them, she would need more to fall into an overdose state. I've got it all figured out.

Quickly, I make up a mug of tea, milky with two sugars - just how she likes it - and carry it into the living room where she lies, still asleep on the couch. I kiss her forehead and brush hair away from her eyes, lingering for only a moment before leaving the room, hesitantly.

I feel bad, leaving her here for some long on her own, but I don't have a choice, really. We need the money that I'll get from this job, which means I have to do anything to keep it.

I move towards the front door, but falter as I catch my reflection in the hall mirror. I stop and stare at myself, grey eyes piercing right through me.

My fists clench at my sides, determinedly, as I mutter, "I can do this."

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Hey y'all! So sorry for the super slow update, but I've been really busy. This chapter is slightly shorter than the others, but I really wanted to post a new chapter for you guys!**

 **I know a lot of you are anxious for our couple to meet, and they will do in the next chapter so stay tuned! And I would also like to thank you all for the support so far! It's crazy!**

 **Drop me a review and let me know what you thought to this chapter :)**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	5. Chapter 5

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 5 {Tris' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

I swear, this house seems to have doubled in size since the last time I was here. It takes all I have not to turn around and make a run for it.

But I walk steadily along the driveway, and ascend the large steps that lead up to the front doors where, of course, the butler is waiting for me with an encouraging smile, which makes me feel a little better.

"She's waiting for you in the kitchen with Christina." He tells me quietly as I step inside. I give him a nod in thanks, and make my way towards the kitchen - thankfully I remember where it is, after the tour Nita gave me when I came for my interview.

As expected, Christina stands alongside Nita, in the same uniform that I have been given. She looks much better in it than I do, though. Nita - _Miss Pablos_ , is dressed similarly to how she was when I first met her; draped in expensive jewellery, and clothed in beautiful, designer garments.

"Tris," she says, upon noticing my presence. "I'm glad you were able to arrive on time, and in the correct uniform too."

I watch her eyes drift down to my slightly battered converse, and her lips purse together tightly, as if she's tasted something sour. I wait for a comment, but she just sighs and turns to Christina. "I expect that you will successfully show Tris how things work here. You can give her the full tour, upstairs included, so she's aware of where everything is. And then she can assist you with your tasks for today." She says, and Christina nods, almost submissively, and I withhold a frown.

I don't like how Nita is speaking to her, but I don't dare say so. I need to keep this job, which means I need to let it all wash over me, and keep my mouth shut. I've had a dozen horrible bosses, so I'm used to it, really. This is just another one of those times, where I have to be respectful, even when I don't find it fair.

She dismisses us swiftly, and I follow Christina out of the sliding glass doors, that lead out into the gardens.

"Your name is Tris, right?" She asks, and I nod. "That's an unusual name, it must be short for something. Am I right?"

I'm somewhat taken aback at her bluntness, but a smile finds its way onto my face. "Tris is short for Beatrice.. it's not hard to figure out why I'd want to abbreviate it."

"Yeah, it's pretty old fashioned, I suppose," she shrugs. "You can call me Chris, if you like. Christina just seems so formal, you know?"

We turn left from the stone patio, and a long strip of glinting turquoise water lies before me - a swimming pool edged with marbled grey tiles, a couple of sun loungers arranged beside it.

"They bring in a pool boy to clean it every fortnight, but they hardly ever use it," Chris scoffs. "Miss Pablos wouldn't ever go near it; after all, she wouldn't want her $2,000 dollar hair extensions to get ruined."

My mouth falls open an inch and stays there. "Two grand? What I would do with money like that.."

"I hope you wouldn't spend it on hair extensions."

"Not quite." I answer, a laugh slipping past my lips. "So how long have you been working here exactly?"

"Two years, just about. It's good money, especially for a maid job. I mean, all I do is clean and finish up a few more easy jobs, and I'm paid well."

"But the hours are far longer than normal jobs," I point out. "Don't you miss spending time with family, friends?"

"Yeah, of course. Well, my folks moved to Cali a few years ago, so it's just my boyfriend around mostly. We live together in a little shoebox apartment close to the city." She tells me, as we move through the flower gardens, that appear to be never ending.

The garden tour is brief, and we are back inside in no time at all. She then embarks on a more in depth tour of the house, including the rooms I've already seen, but I go along with it.

Excluding the living room, kitchen and study (all of which I've already seen), there are a number of other rooms - the master bedroom, three spare rooms for guests, four bathrooms, an indoor gym equipped with all the latest gear, and even a library filled with hundreds of books. I assume that room is generally used by this fiancé, because Nita definitely does not strike me as the kind of girl who would even know what a book was, let alone possess all of these.

"It's impressive, right." Christina says, watching me as I inspect the shelf closest to me, brushing my fingers along the spines. "I take it you like to read?"

"When I have the time." I admit.

"Well I'm sure you can have a good nose when you are dusting them every day," she says, sarcastically, but it's good hearted. "Now c'mon, my first task of the day is laundry. So I'll fold, and you iron?"

I follow her out of the grand library and downstairs, into the fairly sized laundry room. We spend the next hour just getting to know each other, as I iron and she folds, simple as that. I haven't had a normal conversation with somebody my age for a very long time, and it feels nice.

"So," she says, folding up an Armani sweater that I just handed over. "Tell me about you. Why have you ended up here?"

"Why have you?" I shoot back at her, lightly, and she cracks a smile.

"My boyfriend and I needed rent money, and no jobs in the city provided enough cash, so I found the ad for this job in the paper. I thought I'd give it a shot, considering the wages, and between Will and I, we've kept up our rent money and had extra to splurge on stuff like a new TV, or a couch that doesn't have holes in it." She explains, lifting her shoulders in a slight shrug.

"Well, it's just me and my mom at home, and she's going through some.. difficulties at the moment, and can't work," I say, choosing my words carefully. "So I need to provide for us at the moment, and need a decent income. So here I am."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Tris. But it's great that you're taking responsibility like that. I know a lot of people that would've just abandoned their mom without hesitation."

"Yeah, well, if I don't do it, nobody else will, and then where would we be?"

"We'd all love to be in Miss Pablos position," she mutters darkly, lowering her voice considerably. "Not working a day of her life, having money to burn... hell, I bet she wipes her ass with fifty dollar bills."

"You don't seem to like her very much." I add, my voice also quiet.

"No, I don't. Just because I don't own all the materialistic shit she does, I'm apparently beneath her, and she doesn't hesitate to tell me that either." She answers, her once easy smile replaced with a scowl.

"Yeah, I've already gotten that vibe, and it's my first day."

"I'm pleased that you're here, though," she says, perking up a little. "It's been so boring on my own, prancing around in this stupid uniform with nobody to embrass myself with. Fernando is great - the bartender - as well as Harrison. He's the butler, whom you've probably already met. But they had their own duties, but now I have you to keep me company."

"Speaking of, what is with these dumb outfits? It's like she wants us to look like idiots.. oh. I understand." It's clear that Nita chose these outfits specifically to make us look worse than her. I can't say the same for Christina, but even in my normal clothes, I wouldn't even come close to the perfection Nita has achieved in her looks. So I'm not sure why she is so worried. However, Christina is just as pretty as her, so I can see the competitive edge in that situation.

"Yeah. Her fiancé, Tobias, has tried to pursuade her to ditch the uniform, but she won't budge. She treats him like a doormat, pretty much." She scoffs, folding clothes aggressively now.

"I'm yet to be introduced," I say. "But so far she's spoken highly of him, like he's some kind of trophy worth showing off. I expected him to be just the same, just as shallow, y'know? But from what you've said, am I wrong?"

"Tobias is nice," she tells me. "He's working most of the time, but he's usually holed up in the study or the library in his free time. He treats the staff as equal, as people. A type of compassion that Nita clearly does not possess. _And_ he's handsome. Very handsome, at that."

"I hope that I'll do well here. I really do need this job."

"As long as you do as you're told, and keep your head down, you'll be fine. And besides, you've got me to help you whenever, so don't sweat it. And by the looks of these clothes, I can tell you're much better at ironing than I am, so you are already doing great." She assures me.

Her words somewhat comfort me, and after another half an hour, we have completed the laundry, and have now moved on to polishing silverware in the kitchen.

What should be boring work, happens to be rather enjoyable, when I'm doing it with someone I feel comfortable with. Christina is the kind of girl who could be friends with anyone, I think. And I can't help but remember how I used to be the way, willing to talk to anyone and everyone, always wanting to make everyone feel like they had a friend in me.

I used to have that confidence in my step too, but not anymore. I've changed more than I'd like to admit, but maybe that's not such a bad thing.

As we finish shining up the spoons, and move on to knives, I hear heels click against marble, and Nita emerges from a doorway. "Ah, there you both are," she says, advancing towards us. "I assume that Christina has given you the tour. It doesn't take two of you to polish up some silverware, so Tris, why don't you go and give the library a dust. It has not been done for a few days."

Shooting Christina an apologetic glance, I grab the cliche-looking feather duster from the table, where we deposited the cleaning gear.

Finding my way with somewhat ease, I step into the library, and find myself admiring it once more, this time with care.

Dark wooden bookshelves line the walls, and are carved into beautiful shapes, all joining together to create a large wall mural of sorts. There are small, wooden step ladders to reach, all engraved with marks and writings, contributing to the vintage feel. There is gold detailing holstered on to the bookshelves, which means I'll have to polish those.

A grand, oak table stands to my left, holding a spinning globe, and a large map spread out over the surface. In a closer inspection, I notice that there have been scribbles in red marker, circling countries and adding notes and analogies. Opposite the door, is a large vintage fireplace, with all kinds of beautiful carvings. This place really is quite exquisite, but will be a large task when cleaning, that's for sure.

I get to work dusting the books and the shelves on the lower sections of the large wooden structures, and take a few seconds to admire those that catch my eye. At one point, I pull out a leather clasped book, that looks super old, and take my time inspecting the front, realising that the words are in Latin.

"See something you like?"

I spin around, startled, the book and the duster still clutched in my hand, to see a man leant against the doorframe, watching me, somewhat curiously.

My breath catches in my throat as I look at him - he's undoubtedly the most good looking person I've ever set my eyes on. He's tall - that much is obvious - probably a foot taller than me easily, and rather muscular, but lean too. His hair is dark brown, cropped short, but is long enough to be messy in a cute kind of way.

"I - er, sorry? I was just dusting and this caught my eye and -"

"I'm kidding," he assures me, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile as he pushes himself away from the door and walks towards me. "You must like to read; most aren't impressed with what I've done with the place.. Nita thinks reading fills your head with disappointments."

Of course, this must be her Fiancé - Tobias, I think Christina said his name was.

"Yeah, I like to read. Not to this extent, but I do enjoy a good novel." I answer, tucking it back on to the shelf, fighting back an embarsssed blush; it's only my first day, and now I've been caught snooping around in his belongings. _Good start, Prior,_ I think to myself sarcastically.

"You must be the new girl, Tris, isn't it?" He asks and I nod in response. "Nita tells me that you were the best applicant by far, so on behalf of the both of us, I wanted to say welcome."

"Thank you.. and I'm sorry if I was being nosey, looking through all your books like this. It wasn't very professional of me."

"Nonsense. It's not like you set fire to them." He jokes.

As he looks towards the shelf, I take a second to scan my eyes over his face, now that I'm closer. He has a spare upper lip and a full lower lip, and his eyes are so deep set that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are dark blue; a dreaming, sleeping, waiting kind of colour. He has a hooked nose, and his ears stick out a little.

When he looks back to me, I avert my eyes and pretend to pick at the handle of my duster. I feel bad, admiring his good looks like that, especially when I am in his house, and his girlfriend is my boss. But it's not like I've done anything sinful, I simply recognised his handsome features and have no moved on. No harm done.

"Have you read them all?"

"Not all of them," he admits. "Some of them are in Greek, and very confusing French."

"Qui savait que le français pouvait être source de confusion?" I say, laughing a little.

"Donc vous parlez français?" He shoots back. "Pantalon sablier."

"I am _not_ a smarty pants, but I did study French for a year or two in high school."

"Well, I had better get on. I just came to get a dictionary," he says, turning his back to me to scan one of the shelves. "I'm busy writing up some documents, and cannot make any mistakes. Trouble is, I'm being made to do it by hand - so no computerised spell check for me."

"And I should get back to cleaning all of these, though, reaching all the way to the top is going to be a little difficult..." I say, nibbling at my lip, anxiously. How the fuck am I supposed to get all the way up there?

Without heistation, Tobias slides a huge ladder out from a concealed compartment in the wall, big enough for me to reach the books at the very top. I offer him a small smile in thanks and he gives me a curt nod before migrating back towards the door, a large dictionary in his hand.

Before he leaves properly, he looks over his shoulder. "I'm Tobias Eaton by the way, just call me Tobias, though. I'm not as hard about formalities as Nita is." He adds, and then he does leave, closing the door behind him.

At least I have one nice boss. Having two Nitas would be enough to drive anyone crazy, that much I know to be true.

Once I'm done in the library, I head back downstairs, where Christina is busy in the kitchen, muttering to herself as she messes around with a blender, resorting to smacking it with the palm of her hand repeatedly until I jump in to stop her.

"Damn, what did that blender ever do to you?" I ask, prising it out of her hands.

"Nita wants her special Wednesday smoothie, but it's usually Fernando who makes it. But of course, he's sick today and now she's making me do it, and I have no idea how to work this stupid thing!"

"Here, let me do it. You take a breather for a minute." I suggest, plugging the cord into the socket. "What goes in this smoothie anyway?" She points to the ingredients laid out on the counter - blueberries, strawberries, banana, avacado and milk.

I generally know my way around a blender, as the diner had them on the menu during summer, and I was in charge of making them. It's fairly easy, but this blender is expensive and complex, but I manage to figure out the basics.

"So, how was cleaning out the library? Have a good peek at all the dusty old books?" Christina asks, as I throw the ingredients into the blender, as well as some chipped ice, and hitting the button to smoosh it up.

"Yes actually," I say. "And I also met Tobias, who caught me checking out one of his weird Latin books. I expected him to be pissed, but he didn't seem to mind at all."

"What did you think? Handsome right?" She says, throwing me a wink.

I roll my eyes, decanting the finished smoothie into a tall glass. "He's okay, I suppose," I say, carefully. "But he's not my type. I don't go for the whole brooding, mysterious thing. But I'm sure he makes Nita happy."

"Yeah, I've heard them more times than I count doing the deed, and believe me, she sounds like she's enjoying it." She laughs, quietly, covering her mouth with her hand.

A blush rises on my cheeks and I wrinkle my nose. "Too much information." I say, shaking my head as I scatter a few blueberries on top and slide in a straw. I'm not used to talking about stuff like that, especially in such a casual manner as Christina is.

I guess that's what comes with having no real friends for a couple years. Tori doesn't count as a friend - she's more of a mother figure, I suppose. And it's not like I'd ever talk about anything like that with her. The thought of it makes me cringe.

She giggles and takes the glass from me, thanking me swiftly before heading out onto the patio. I understand rush; I assume that Nita isn't the kind of girl who enjoys to be kept waiting.

I lean my back against the granite counter and run a hand through my hair, straightening my apron with the other. I'm already missing Tori and the diner.. today is Wednesday which means Frank will be at the diner with the picture of his wife, expecting me as his waitress, but I'm not going to be there.

But this is a new beginning for me, a fresh chance, the opportunity to turn our lives around. And I won't waste it.

The rest of the day is spent checking off the tasks on Christina's list, that she had been given for the day. We did the dishes, picked the weeds out from the flower beds, polished the sterling banisters on the staircase, and changed the sheets on all of the beds.

But it was pretty chilled; we talked as we worked, laughed and shared stupid stories from our teenage years - drunken nights, trips to the ER after clumsy accidents (me), and hook-up stories on wild nights out (Christina, obviously).

Tobias didn't emerge from his study the rest of the day, so our first encounter remained our only one. But I doubt I would've noticed if he'd appeared, Nita certainly kept us busy all day, only giving us a half hour break for lunch.

By the time our shift has officially finished, I'm ready to drop out unconscious, but I still need to get home and make sure mom is ok, make her some dinner and myself...

But I have a good feeling about this new beginning. I just have to make sure that I don't screw it up.

It can't be too hard.. right?

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Yay our future couple has finally met! I wanted to keep it kind of low-key, and pretty casual. I hope I did a good job, and you aren't disappointed!**

 **The next chapter will be Tobias' POV, so let me know if you want me to either show the meeting in his view, or a brand new situation but he has thoughts about Tris and his opinion on her? Let me know by dropping me a review or sending me a PM!**

 **Thank you for all the support so far, I read all your reviews and appreciate them so much!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	6. Chapter 6

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 6 {Tobias' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

The one thing I hate about my job is the paperwork, and how much of it there is. Mr Pablos is never able to complete much of it himself due to his "busy schedule", which means the task is always being passed down to me.

Therefore, most of my time is spent filling out documents, without the luxury of a computer, as these all have to be written out by hand. So my only source of spellcheck is a dictionary, which I keep up in the library.

Huffing, I push my chair away from my desk and stand up, leaving the study. I pass Christina in the kitchen, alone, polishing silverware. I give her a nod in greeting, but I'm curious - wasn't there supposed to be a trainee shadowing her today?

Shrugging it off, I move away from the kitchen and climb the many stairs, rubbing a hand across my face, drained of energy. I hate having to work from home; not only is it all boring business deal documents and contracts, but Nita makes it her mission to constantly check up on me, which alone is exhausting enough.

I proceed down the hallway, but I slow down a little as I notice the door to the library is open, but I know that it is always kept shut.

I move towards the doorway, and spot the cause of the open door - the new maid, with her back to me, looking through my bookshelves. I wouldn't usually mind, but I'm irritable and tired, and I don't exactly appreciate her touching all my things.

"See something you like?" I ask, leaning against the doorframe.

She spins around to face me, like a deer caught in a pair of headlights, a feather duster and an old, Latin book clasped in her hand, and I soften a little.

Nita told me that the new employee was twenty years of age, but this girl could be the same height as a petite fifteen year old, only five foot, at most. Her skin is pale, and her eyes are wide and - even from where I'm standing - I can see that they are the colour of a raging thunderstorm. She's beautiful, that much is obvious.

"I - er, sorry? I was just dusting and this caught my eye and -"

"I'm kidding," I say, interrupting her as I walk away from the door, towards her, my curiosity getting the better of me. "You must like to read; most aren't impressed with what I've done with the place.. Nita thinks reading fills your head with disappointments."

"Yeah, I like to read," she answers, carefully. "Not to this extent, but I do enjoy a good novel."

I watch as she tucks the book back in its original place on the shelf, and her cheeks have become a little rosier than they were before.

"You must be the new girl, Tris, isn't it? Nita tells me that you were the best applicant by far, so on behalf of the both of us, I wanted to say welcome." I add, attempting to break the ice a little.

"Thank you.. and i'm sorry if I was being nosey, looking through all your books like this. It wasn't very professional of me." She apologises, pushing a piece of hair back behind her ear.

"Nonsense," I chuckle. "It's not like you set fire to them."

I look away from Tris and toward the bookshelf, at the dozens of shelves full of books, all of which I've been collecting since I was a little boy.

I've always loved to read, whether it be dumb kid books like ' _Diary of a Wimpy Kid_ ', or even classics that are aimed at a more mature audience, such as ' _To Kill a Mockingbird_ ', or ' _The Great Gatsby_ '.

In elementary school, while the other kids traded soccer cards at recess, I would spend my time in the library, my nose stuck in a book. And even during high school, between playing football and running the debating society, I was still mostly seen with a book glued to my hand.

A little lame, one would say, but I've never paid much attention to what anybody else has to say. So over the stages of my life, I've managed to build up a rather impressive collection, if I do say so myself.

I turn back to Tris, who is fiddling with the handle on her duster, awkwardly.

But before I can speak, she beats me to it. "Have you read them all?"

"Not all of them. Some of them are in Greek, and very confusing French." I answer, smiling a little.

"Qui savait que le français pouvait être source de confusion?" She flings back, speaking fluently and pronouncing it all perfectly.

"Donc vous parlez français? Pantalon sablier." I fire back, surprising her a little, I think.

"I am _not_ a smarty pants," she smirks. "But I did study French for a year or two in high school."

As much as I'd like to stay here and talk French all day, I know I have work to do, and there's no avoiding it, as much as I long for it all to disappear.

"Well, I had better get on," I say, clearing my throat and turning towards the shelves behind me. "I just came to get a dictionary. I'm busy writing up some documents, and cannot make any mistakes. Trouble is, I'm being made to do it by hand - so no computerised spell check for me."

"And I should get back to cleaning all of these, though, reaching all the way to the top is going to be a little difficult.." she trails off, anxiously. I look over my shoulder and see her looking up at the book cases, which reach the ceiling, nibbling at her bottom lip.

Knowingly, I pull out the huge ladder from the concealed compartment in the wall, long enough for her to reach the very top. She smiles at me shyly in thanks, and I give her a small nod in return and head for the door, after grabbing the dictionary I came up here for, in the first place.

But before I can leave, I remember that she probably doesn't know who I am, unless Nita has mentioned me (which is likely), but I feel it necessary to introduce myself to her in person.

I stop and turn myself back towards her slightly and say, "I'm Tobias Eaton, by the way, just call me Tobias, though. I'm not as hard about formalities as Nita is." And then I do leave, closing the heavy wooden door behind me.

Returning to my study, I collapse back into my chair and start looking up the words I need, sighing as I do so. I used to enjoy my work, the opportunities Mr Pablos would open up to me. But lately, I've been having second thoughts about what I'm doing with my life.

Do I really want to spend the rest of my days working in the tedious business industry, attempting to be grateful for the scraps my father-in-law throws my way? I _should_ be thankful for all that I have, and I am, but I can't help but want to just wish it all away. A fresh start, a new beginning of sorts.

I grab my iPod out of my drawer and slip my earphones in, hitting the play button. A _Fall Out Boy_ song begins to play and I put my head down again, burying myself in my work, and banishing those longing, wishful thoughts away to a dark corner of my mind. Still lurking in the shadows, but not taking my mind as prisoner completely.

As the day progresses, I continue on with my work, switching from playlist to playlist, ignoring everything else around me, until voices drift in from the open window to my left, that looks out onto the usually quiet flower gardens.

After attempting to ignore it for a good few minutes, eventually I wander over to the window, and peer outside. Knelt down at the flowerbeds is Tris and Christina, trading light-hearted banter as they dig up weeds, tossing them into a bucket.

I bite the inside of my cheek - I'm not even sure why Nita gave them that job, that's for the gardener who comes in once a week, not for our maids. She likes to give them horrible jobs, though, which was one of the reasons that Ava quit a good few months ago.

We only got around to putting up the ad two weeks ago, however, because it had to be "aesthetically pleasing" enough. Which means pleasing to Nita's standards, which are immensely high. I don't dare say that what she tasks our staff with is too labouring, as I know she'd go full supernova, and I don't wish to be on the receiving end of that. Not at all.

I watch as Christina looks side to side, clumsily, as she manages to miss my presence completely, and grins at Tris. "What I wouldn't give to throw all this into Nita's closet." She says, gesturing towards the bucket filled with a mixture of weeds and dirt.

The corner of my mouth twitches but I suppress the smile - I shouldn't find her comment amusing, I know that. But I have the same urges sometimes, and find humour in that.

"A little much, don't you think?" Tris reasons, seemingly taken aback by her bluntness. "I know that she may seem a little.. cold, but maybe there's a nice person underneath."

"Yeah I'm sure.. deep, _deep_ down." She responds, voice laced with sarcasm.

I should jump in and defend my fiancé, shout at them, tell them that there is a wonderful person in her, but I can't bring myself to do that. I'm a lot of things, but I am not a liar.

"Exactly." Tris smiles, amused now rather than stunned.

I take their break in conversation like a slap to the face, and I shuffle back to my desk, cheeks burning. I shouldn't listen in to things that don't include me, it's impertinent and terribly intrusive. I mentally scold myself for a good five minutes as I attempt to bury myself back into my work, eventually resorting to closing the window so that I can no longer hear the duo's verbal exchanges.

There's a short, rhythmic knock on my door just as I sit back down, and I sigh before calling for her to come in.

Nita slips inside my office and locks the door behind her, giving me a seductive smirk. She struts her way over to my chair and lowers herself down onto my lap, straddling me, winding her arms around my neck.

"Hey baby," she purrs. "How is work coming along?"

"Yeah, I'm close to getting it all finished up. Your father seriously knows how to dish out the hard labouring challenges, huh?" I chuckle, attempting to fill it with enough humour to keep her at ease.

"I can ask him to lay off, if it's getting too much -"

"That will not be neccesary," I cut her off, shaking my head. "Just because he is soon to be my father-in-law, does not mean I deserve to be treated any different."

"I miss you, baby. I'm all alone, with nobody to keep me company." Nita pouts, and I lightly kiss her.

"I'm sorry, but you could always make conversation with Christina or the new girl? I'm sure they'd happily get into a conversation with you, don't you think?" I suggest.

She rolls her eyes, giving me the " _you can't be serious_ " face, and I concede. I knew she'd react that way before the words even passed my lips.

Before I can speak again, she covers my mouth with her own, her press-on nails ticking the nape of my neck as she rests her hand there, keeping me in place. I reciprocate her advances, but I can't help but notice the lack of spark.

Everyone always talks about that beautiful feeling you're supposed to get when you kiss your soul mate, and that feeling is never present in these kind of situations. But I'm a guy, and whilst I'm caught up in the more intimate sexual encounters, I don't usually mind as much, but it's always there at the back of my mind, prodding away at me.

Maybe I'm just overreacting; the kind of romance that I've always thought to be realistic had been put in my head by the books I've read. Perhaps happily ever afters don't exist, after all.

I think that it is time that I abandon my childish fantasies, and begin to look at things realistically - this is my life, and no matter how much I wish for it to be different, it never will be. And I cannot change that. I have wealth, a beautiful woman who will become my wife, a wonderful house, a stable career. I have a lot, and I think that sometimes I may take it for granted.

Zeke was right when he told me not to get my head too lost in the clouds, because when reality becomes clear, it hits you like a ton of bricks.

Nita pulls away first, and adjusts my shirt back to normal, tutting. "This shirt isn't your colour, you have so many better options," she says, moving away from my lap and standing. "You don't want your standards to drop, do you?"

"Of course not," I assure her, forcing a smile. "I'm sorry, I was just in a bit of a daze this morning. I'll make sure to wear a nicer one tomorrow."

"You have seemed a little far away lately," she says, carefully, her dark eyes narrowing slightly. "You aren't having second thoughts about the wedding, are you?"

"No," I answer smoothly, though I curse myself for not telling the truth. "I'm more than excited to become your husband. I couldn't have found a better woman to take my surname."

I want her to see through my act, to tell me that she doesn't believe me, that I can't trick her so easily. But she doesn't. She just flashes me a smile and readjusts her necklace, giving me a chaste kiss on my cheek.

"Oh, and by the way, my mother called - she wants to arrange a dinner party, and invited us to come along. A lot of my family whom you've never met will be attending, which gives you a great opportunity to impress them all." She informs me, bouncing one of her chocolate curls back into place.

"I can't wait." I say, smiling weakly.

She gives me another swift kiss, not lingering a bit, before turning away and walking towards the door, closing it behind her.

I sink further into my chair, covering my face with my hands, sighing into them. I'm a coward, and I always will be. There's no way in hell that I'll ever be able to tell Nita how I truly feel about us, so there's nothing left to do but go through with it, and hope that a spark somehow ignites itself as time goes on. It could happen.. right? I'd like to think so.

Maybe I'm just going through some kind of phase. Maybe in a few months, I'll be right as rain; I'll feel the same way about Nita as I did when we first met. We'll fall in love all over again, and I'll be happy.

I won't need freedom, or adventure, because I'll have found happiness right where I am. And then I'll be content, I'll be ok, I'll be grateful and thankful. It has to work out that way.

Otherwise.. what happens then? I live a life of misery and despair? _No_ \- I won't let that happen. I am in control of my destiny, which means I control where my life goes from here. And I know that I can make something of the life I've been given, settled here in this lifeless, colourless town. We could start a family together, have kids, grow old together. We could make it work, I just know it.

Abandoning all hope of finishing up my work, I pull my copy of Jonathan Swift's, _Gulliver's Travels_. Reading is always able to take my mind off things, and I know for certain that trying to complete those tiring documents is going to do no good for my mental health.

I take my book and leave the study, taking the route that leads me to the library, which - this time - is empty. I flop down onto the chair tucked up to my wooden table, which is covered with a large map of the world, of which I have marked the places I would visit, if I was ever given the chance to do so.

I'm pleased to see that most of my belongings have been left alone, with the exception of a few of my books that were scattered around the table - they've been moved back onto the shelves, and somehow, in the right place. I've always ordered them alphabetically, from top to bottom, and she's managed to do it correctly.

A ghost of a smile touches my lips; at least now this place will be able to be cleaned, without being wrecked at the hands of Christina. She's been with us for a long while, and she's a great employee, but her distaste for my library is very apparent, and pretty amusing.

Leaning back, I open up my book, to where my page is marked, and continue to read, letting my thoughts run away with the words printed on the pages.

 **-o-o-o-**

I wake with a start, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead, and I sit up, gasping for air. Leaning back on my palms, I take a moment to catch my breath.

As my vision returns, I sigh in relief as I come to the realisation that I am still in my bedroom, with Nita beside me, who is groaning, having been woken up.

"Tobias," she snaps, rolling over so her back is to me, and I can practically hear the scowl on her lips. "You're going to have start sleeping on the couch if you keep waking me up like this. What is your problem, anyway? Grown men aren't supposed to have nightmares."

Wordlessly, I slip out from under the sheets and throw on a pair of black sweatpants and a hoodie. Nita doesn't try to stop me as I leave our room, and close-to slam the door behind me.

Descending the cold steps that lead downstairs, I head for the bar and grab one of the Grey Goose Vodka bottles from behind the counter, and then leave the house by the sliding doors, that lead into the backyard.

I shuffle my way over to a sun lounger and sit down, letting myself relax against the mesh material. I unscrew the top to the fresh bottle and bring it to my lips, taking a long drink, cringing as it burns my throat. But it's a welcomed form of discomfort, and it helps me to relax further.

With it being early November, the night is freezing cold, but I'm too numb to feel anything, anyhow.

Nita was right - grown men aren't supposed to have nightmares, especially not as badly as me. It's childish. But I don't know how to prevent them from invading my sleep, holding my mind hostage and twisting everything into dark shadows, threatening my very existence.

It's moronic, really; it's not like dreams can hurt me in any way, but they all feel so real, like he's really there, lurking in the dark, waiting.

I take another swig from my bottle, relishing in the blaze that now rages in my throat. There's no way I'm going back up to our bedroom now - I know when we wake up, I'll get that look. The look of shame. The look that explicitly implies how ashamed she is to be with me, and how immature I am. I can't stand that again, so my best bet is to just spend the night out here.

And just like every time I get bad dreams, the only way to force myself back to sleep is to essentially knock myself out. Half the bottle usually does the trick.

I lift my eyes up to the sky, a blanket of velvety darkness, with no stars in sight, much to my dismay.

When I was ten years old, I was sent to see a counsellor. I'd been having bad dreams - seriously, the kind where you shout in your sleep and yell and fight and wake up covered in sweat. Not good. Not at all. The counsellor spent a whole year trying to get me to open up about what happened in my past, repeatedly telling me to "trust her".

Yeah, right. Why would I trust her? Ever since he started to get attached to the drink, I was never able to trust an adult again. Even now, I struggle with the whole 'trusting people' thing.

In the end, a whole year on, she pretty much labelled me as hopeless and just gave up on me. She told me that she couldn't help me to deal with the past if I wouldn't talk to her about it.

As I grew older, though, and the memories of his wrath began to somewhat fade, the nightmares slowly dwindled down to once a week, and that was fine with me. Even now, I still suffer with at least once a month, and Nita doesn't appreciate those nights at all.

She doesn't know what happened to me as a boy, and I don't plan on telling her. She wouldn't understand; she's had such a perfect life, the ideal childhood. She'll never know how the past can haunt you, so I understand that she would never be able to empathise about where I come from. I don't want her pity, which I know is what I'll get plenty of if I do tell her, so I figure it's best to keep it to myself.

Besides, I never want to go back to those dark times in my life. Start looking at all of that and I'll unravel faster than a sweater with a hole in it.

The only person who is aware of my previous situation - with the exception of my mom, obviously - is Zeke and Hanna, who were my rocks for a good amount of time.

Mom went a little.. crazy for a while, and ended up spending a few months in Rehab. Nobody knew that, though; we made up some bullshit lie about her looking into a wealthy estate over in England, and was staying over there for a while to work things out.

Thankfully, everybody bought it, and when she returned - with help - she slowly became the person she was before. It was fine at first, but she took the new found freedom for granted, and started to change - she became selfish and shallow, believing that diamonds and jewels were more important than me, than the people who loved her and took care of her when she was going through that rough patch.

I've come to the conclusion that family is a waste of space, and that I don't need them, anyway. However, if Nita and I do have children, I'll do everything in my power to make sure they have the perfect childhood; at least, a better one than I had. And I would be a great dad, no matter what. I'd never turn out like him. Ever. And I'd never lay a hand on Nita either, not even in my most furious fits of rage.

I'm not like him. I'm _not_.

When I take my next drink from the bottle, I take a quarter of it in one gulp, trying to drink away the memories. I hate the fact that this is the only way I can forget and fall asleep after said nightmares, and I don't take pride in the fact that I use alcohol as my own personal sleeping drug.

But I avoid overdoing it any other time, and confine myself to two drinks, maximum. I wouldn't say that I like to get drunk, so I tend to avoid the stronger-based liquor. These nights are exceptions to those self-boundaries, though.

I've found that my nightmares seem to follow me, as if it were my shadow, forever. I'm not sure that they'll ever go away. Not completely.

As I continue to drown in my thoughts and drink my way through them, it's not long before my vision blurrs and everything in my body seems to heavy, like I'm being pulled down by an invisible force. My eyes droop, and my head sags against the chair.

Letting the bottle drop to the ground, I pass out to the sound of shattering glass.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **New chapter! I worked super hard on this, so I hope you guys enjoy. I took your reviews into account and used your comments to create the events for this chapter so thank you to everyone who took the time to drop me an review or a PM.**

 **Also, thank you to Eunice339 who gave me the idea for the eavesdropping part, thank you!**

 **Leave a review to let me know what you thought, I'll try and update again as soon as I can :)**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	7. Chapter 7

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 7 (Tris' POV)**

 **-o-o-o-**

It's a cold and drizzly morning, not even close to being suitable for sunbathing, so as I approach the pool area and spot a figure on the sunlounger, I'm more than a little taken aback.

"Tobias.. is that you?" I ask as I approach, hesitantly.

When I receive no answer, I force myself to go closer, and realisation settles in. Tobias is passed out on the sunlounger, his hair ruffled and his face abnormally pale. Glass crunches under my sneaker, and when I look down I see a smashed bottle of some kind of alcohol.

I move around to the other side of the chair, away from the broken glass, and crouch down beside him, torn about what to do.

Should I go and get Nita to deal with him? But maybe they'll get into a fight about it? As it appears he didn't go out clubbing last night or anything, as he's still in lounge-styled articles of clothing. I can imagine Nita furious at the sight, and I don't want to cause any trouble. Especially as Nita is feeling "under the weather", this morning, which is why Christina is indoors making up her breakfast in bed.

I'll have to take care of this myself.

Reaching out, I attempt to shake his shoulder, but he doesn't even flinch. After a few attempts of shoving at his strong arms and broad shoulders, to no avail, I walk away.

Slipping inside, I grab a glass of water from the kitchen - which is empty, so I'm guessing Christina is upstairs serving Nita - and then head back out into the garden.

As soon as I stand above him once more, I tip the contents of the glass onto his head, jolting him awake, spluttering and coughing. But as soon as he's able to get the water out of his eyes, he instantly retracts, cowering away from the light and covering his face with his hands.

"Way to wake a guy." He mutters, almost incoherently.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" I ask.

"Could you maybe not speak so loudly, my head feels like it's been filled with firecrackers." He groans, taking his hands away from his eyes to hold his head in pain.

I roll my eyes. "You didn't answer my question," I snap. "What are you doing sleeping outside in November?"

"You're my maid, not my mother."

"Thanks for the update - if you don't want my help then maybe I could go and get Nita, I'm sure she'd be pleased with the state you've got yourself in." I shoot back.

I know that I should be respectful when talking to my employers, but I'm not afraid of Tobias; I know that he won't come down hard on me for something like that.

My Nita threat must have given him a change of heart, as he attempts to sit up, shaking his head. "No, don't get Nita. I'll be a dead man.. I'm sorry, but I really could use your help."

Sighing, I grab him by the arm and help him stand, though he staggers and clutches onto me, and for a second I think he might pass out. But after a moment, he pulls himself together, and we walk slowly but surely towards the glass doors.

Once inside, I am thankful to see that the kitchen is still scarce of soul, which means Christina cannot bombard us with questions. "Let's get you to a bathroom." I say, practically dragging him along the hall, to the large bathroom - which they refer to as their _box bathroom_. But it's probably bigger than my bathroom and my bedroom at home put together.

He collapses at the toilet, clasping his hands on the bowl, and violently throws up, just as I click the lock into place. I grab a beige-coloured flannel and soak it in cold water, and when he's finished vomiting, I hand it over so he can wipe his mouth. There are dark circles claiming his under eyes, and his usually tanned skin is unnaturally pale.

Over the next fifteen minutes, he throws up once, and spends the rest of that time dry heaving, until he finally slumps against the bowl, finished. I grab the small glass on the counter beside the sink, and fill it with water, handing it over.

He sips it, reluctantly, and his shoulders slowly begin to relax. "I'm sorry, you can go now, I can manage." He croaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You need a shower," I say, ignoring his previous statement. "D'you think you'll be able to manage the stairs?"

"Of course. But I can do it on my own." He tells me, a somewhat fierce determination present in his voice, as he struggles to push himself up off the floor. As he does, his knees threaten to give out and he grabs at the towel rack to steady himself.

"Just let me help you," I say, my tone softening a little bit. "It'll be much quicker, and you don't stand a chance at those stairs - not alone, at least. You're a mess, frankly, and It's not my place to ask you why, but I do feel that I should help you."

Sighing, he concedes, "Ok fine, a shower sounds nice."

So I unlock the bathroom and make sure the coast is clear, and when I deem it safe, I help guide him back out into the hallway. It proves that help would be needed at the stairs, as he can barely make it up the first one without tipping sideways.

I've never had a hangover this bad myself, but I understand how much pain he must be in - but I don't have much sympathy, it's his own fault, after all.

After a few minutes struggling, I finally hole him up into a bathroom, where he proceeds to start up the shower, and looks at me expectantly.

"I'll be down in the kitchen - I'll make you something to eat. Come down when you're done, ok?" I say, making to leave, but he grabs my arm before I can.

"Thank you, Tris," he says, and I swear that I hear gratitude mixed in with his slurring words. "Really.. I don't deserve it."

"No, I suppose you don't. But I can't do my job properly with you vomiting all over the place," I say, keeping my voice levelled. "And on that note, I'll be spending my morning cleaning up that broken bottle outside, as well as bleaching that toilet."

"I'll help." He offers, running a hand through his hair.

"No, it's my job. I'll do it myself." I say, firmly, before shaking his grip from my arm and slipping out back into the hallway. I hear the lock click behind me, so I walk away, back down the stairs, and towards the laundry room.

I spend a minute or two searching, until I find the dustpan and brush. I then head back outside, towards the sunlounger where I found Tobias, and kneel down beside the mess of broken glass. I figure that I had better get this job done now, rather than later; Christina would be curious as to where it came from. The toilet job can wait - one of my tasks today is to clean the entirety of that particular bathroom, anyway.

The scent still lingers, and I can now identify the drink as vodka, and strong stuff too. I'm not sure as to why he took this out here and drank himself silly, but who am I to question what he does? It has absolutely nothing to do with me, and isn't my business, nor my place to ask.

But I can't help but be curious. Wouldn't anybody be?

I understand his desire to keep Nita in the dark about this incident - she doesn't seem like the most understanding of people.

Shivering, I keep on sweeping up the shards of glass, trying not to leave any behind. Standing on a bit of that would hurt like a bitch, and I'm not willing to be held responsible for any kind of incident that caused injury.

After I'm done, I dispose of the glass in the kitchen trash can, and return the dustpan and brush back to its original place. Then I get started on Tobias's breakfast, just as Christina stomps into the kitchen, her expression thunderous.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?" I ask as she collapses down at one of the bar stools at the counter.

"Nope, but Nita certainly has," she says, rolling her eyes. "I think her and Tobias got in some kind of argument last night; he wasn't there when I was serving her up breakfast, and she's in such a mood. Seriously - she's ordered me to go into town to get her some kind of fancy cheese, because ordinary bogstandard cheese just simply won't do."

"You'd better get going then. If she's in such a bad mood as you say, I'm sure she's going to be pretty impatient. I don't want to see you getting into any kind of trouble.."

"I suppose so," she sighs, standing up and grabbing a set of keys from her apron - car keys, by the looks of it. "I've been given access to the Bentley. So I guess that's one upside."

By the time I've finished breakfast, Christina is long gone, and Tobias has just emerged, freshly showered but still sluggish. He sits down at the counter, and I slide across his scrambled eggs and a glass of apple juice, as well as a cup of coffee, and I also give him an aspirin.

"I would've just been ok with the coffee, you know." He says as he takes the pill, taking it back with his juice.

"Maybe, but eggs are full of hardworking acids like cysteine - which breaks down the chemical that causes horrible headaches," I shrug, beginning to clean up the pots and pans I used. "And juice has lots of vitamins and rehydrates the body, as well as giving you an instant energy boost."

"Damn, which textbook did you swallow?"

"I studied biology, it was one of my preferred subjects actually. It's amazing what you can learn by simply paying attention."

He begins to eat his eggs, slowly, and we remain in a comfortable kind of silence for a while, as he eats and I wash dishes at the sink. Glancing out of the window, I can see that the slight drizzle as turned to full out rain, and it hammers against the ground, violently.

"Those eggs were pretty good," he says as I retrieve his now empty plate and glasses. "Can you make anything else, or do your talents just lie in scrambling eggs?"

"Well, I've worked for a diner in town for a couple years, first waitressing, but then I began helping out in the kitchen too - my specialities are beignets. My mom passed her recipie down to me, and I've been making those since I could toddle." I answer, shrugging.

"I'm hopeless myself. I'd probably burn water.. maybe you could teach me sometime. Or at least let me try some of your beignets, being that they're your specialty and all." He chuckles, teasing me a little. I can't help but smile as I look over at him, nodding.

"Sure, I'm sure I could stretch to a few cooking lessons - the basics, at least."

"I look forward to it.. but maybe not today? I think I'm going to need a nap before facing Nita; she'll go nuts if she finds out what I did last night," he pauses, and looks at me with a newfound apprehension. "You won't say anything to her, will you? I mean, about the state you found me in, or that you found me at all."

"No, of course not. What you do is your business, and is not mine to share with anyone. I don't find pleasure in getting others into trouble, or causing arguments, for that matter."

His shoulders sag in relief, and he gets up from the barstool, rubbing his eyes. "Thanks.. not just for the secret keeping, if you will, but for helping me out. I do appreciate it."

"Don't sweat it, I'm sure anybody else would've done the same thing." I remind him, shaking my head.

The corners of his mouth twitch upwards, and he looks like he wants to say something, but decides against it and swallows his potential words. Giving me a nod, he leaves the room, and I stay in the same position at the island counter until his footsteps are no longer within hearing range.

Turning, I migrate back towards the sink and begin to dry up the dishes, and when she returns, Christina assists me.

"Did you get the cheese?" I ask her, smirking.

Her hair is matted down against her forehead, and she looks anything but impressed. "Yes, her royal highness may have her cheese," she says, darkly. "But nothing shall be said about my own struggles, battling it out against an enraged monsoon!"

"I think monsoon is a bit of an exaggeration, wouldn't you say?" I nudge her, gesturing with a movement of my head towards the window, where the rain still falls heavily, but no where near enough to be qualified as a monsoon.

"Whatever. It sure felt like I was stuck in the midst of one while I was trudging through it all - and the owner of the store I had to buy it from looked at me funny, like he'd never seen a drowned rat in the form of a girl before."

"C'mon, just let it go," I say, nudging her with my shoulder. "Or you'll constantly be frothing at the mouth over posh cheese."

She laughs, and I join in, and it feels nice to be able to laugh again - despite this only being my second day here, I feel like I've been working alongside Christina for much longer. And that makes me happy. Well, as happy as I can be with all the shit constantly stewing in my mind.

There's the sound of footsteps in the doorway, and we turn to see a man there - he looks like he's in his late twenties, his black hair is slicked back, and he wears a shit eating grin as he saunters into the room, positively radiating confidence.

"Fernando." Christina greets, rolling her eyes, fondly.

"Hola beautiful," he says with a wink, jumping up onto the island counter. "And I presume this is the new girl?"

"Mmhmm, this is Tris. Tris, meet Fernando - the loser who works behind the bar."

"Saludos preciosos," he greets, rather flirtatiously, but he was the same with Christina; so I assume that's just his nature. "Welcome to hell on earth."

"Hell? This place can't be that bad.." I point out, nibbling at my bottom lip.

"Nah, he's just messing with you. Ignore him, that's what I do." Christina assures me, and I watch as Fernando puts a hand to his heart, feigning agony.

"Your words sting, why do you wish to hurt me this way?" He states, dramatically. I can't help but crack a smile at his behaviour, I'm not used to being around such big personalities, but between Christina and - quite obviously - Fernando, I'm sure I'll get used to it.

"Whatever, I thought you were supposed to be sick?" Christina says, sticking her tongue out at him, playfully.

"Mm, a real bad case of the Black Death; that not-so conveniently lasted for twenty four hours." He replies, his expression sheepish. "My boyfriend and I have just moved into our new apartment, and felt it right to christen the place.. all day."

Christina wrinkles her nose and covers her ears with her hands, and a steady blush rises on my cheeks, though I fight to suppress it. "Too much info, Fernando." Chris groans.

"Whatever. I had much more fun there than I bet you two had cleaning up after the royal family."

"It wasn't that bad." I interject.

"Tris got caught in the library, looking through Tobias's books." Christina giggles, jabbing me in the ribs with her elbow.

"She did, huh? We have a curious one in our midst," Fernando says, looking me up and down. "How long d'you think she'll last?"

"I am here you know!" I interrupt, scowling, though I'm not really mad. "And what's that supposed to mean? Why wouldn't I last?"

"The girl who worked here when I started - while Fernando was already working here - decided to have a snoop in Nita's shoe closet while cleaning, and got caught," Christina explains, her voice lowering considerably. "Nita threw a fit, and threw her out on her ass, just for looking. So you should be thankful it was Tobias who found you, and not Nita. You would've been toast."

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly," he adds. "I never heard from Clara after that. I'm not even sure what happened to her after that day."

"I guess I'd better be less nosey in future.." I say, making a mental note as a reminder.

"Well, I can't say that I haven't had a good poke around her closet when I'm cleaning, but thankfully I've never been caught." Christina informs me, and I feel a little better knowing I'm not the only one.

Glancing at his watch, Fernando rolls his eyes and slides off the countertop. "I'd better get to work, polishing glasses and arranging liquor bottles." Bidding us goodbye with a cheeky smile, he leaves the kitchen, and once again, it is only Christina and I.

"He seems nice." I say, as we finish up towel-drying the last of the dishes.

"He is," she agrees. "A little eccentric, as you probably noticed, but nice all the same."

After we've finished up with the dishes, Christina heads upstairs to clean the two bigger spare bedrooms, and I migrate off into the bathroom - where Tobias was previously spewing his guts out.

Unenthusiastically, I grab the bleach, and get started in disinfecting the toilet. The process barely takes five minutes, and I move on to scrubbing the sink and the connected, sterling silver faucets. It's a lot more spiritless without the company of Christina, but I'm too lost in thought to mind that much.

I'm way too curious about Tobias. Way more than I should be, and what would be considered appropriate. Despite their outward compatibility, from what I've seen, him and Nita don't appear to be so accordant. I don't know why I'm so attentive to all of this, but I just don't see the two of them ever working out.

But who am I to judge? I'm hardly the expert when it comes to mature adult relationships - I can't conclude that what I see is the same as what goes on behind closed doors. Perhaps they're really in-love and act all affectionate when they're alone.

Either way, it really is not any of my business, nor is it my role to be concerned about anything regarding their personal lives. This is my job, and I must act professionally. Which is why I have an uneasy feeling about these implied "cooking lessons", though maybe he was just being polite; I am sure that he wouldn't want to learn anything from me, it should be the other way round, really.

I'm willing to bet he was in the best education possible, and graduated with honours. All these posh folk always are well-educated, which is why they bag the best jobs, and the rest of us have to scrape the bottom of the barrel for scraps.

Does that seem fair? Not to me. It's not my fault that I had to drop out of school. I was predicated good grades too, and I could've graduated with honours. Me. But because of my pitiful family crisis, any possibilities of that happening were vanquished.

So now here I am, scrubbing the floors of someone else's house, because they are too ostentatious to do it themselves. However, without this job, I never would've found that scintillation of hope that has put my motivation into drive.

Christina crashes through the bathroom door just as I finish up on the floors, breathing heavily, as if she just ran somewhere. "Nita wants you upstairs with coffee." She tells me abruptly, but before I can open my mouth to protest she speaks again. "It's not up to me - boss's orders. You didn't do anything wrong, did you?"

"I don't think so." I say, uncertainly. Did Tobias tell her about me helping him this morning? Am I going to get fired?

"Well, she asked for you specifically, and she doesn't like to be kept waiting - the coffee pot is ready, take it up on a tray with the China mug, and pour it out for her there. She takes two sugars, and likes it rather milky." Christina informs me as we leave the bathroom.

We part ways as we reach the kitchen; her back upstairs, and me towards the counter to retrieve the coffee pot, mug, sugar and milk. I arrange then all on a prepossessing tray, with shiny silver handles, and make sure to keep it steady as I ascend the numberless stairs.

The master bedroom is located on the left of the first hallway, and is stupendous in size - there's a large bay window on the right side of the room, looking out onto the garden space, and there's a set of glass double doors on the opposing side, leading out onto a balcony, of which I cannot see much of.

There's a closed door a good ways into the room, which I assume is the connected bathroom. There's an intricate vanity set too, along with a walk-in closet. The biggest feature of the room is the bed; a vast king-sized one, with ivory sheets, and a dozen throw pillows, all of which have been embroidered with shades that match the room's colour scheme.

And among the sheets, propped up against the headboard, is Nita. Her dark hair is hanging at her shoulders, still managing to look impeccable, despite her nights sleep. Her deep purple nightgown hangs off one shoulder, and she looks effortlessly pretty. I suppress an eye roll. Why couldn't God have found favour upon me, and at least given me the grace of good looks?

"You requested me, Miss Pablos?" I ask, as I set the tray down on the coffee table at the end of the bed - the only surface in sight, that isn't cluttered with personal items or mindless decor.

"Indeed," she confirms, setting down her iPad to watch me as I carefully pour her coffee. "I just wanted to check in, see how you were getting on so far. I hope that Christina is keeping you in check - I tasked her with helping you as you fall into the scheme of things here."

"Oh.. yes, I'm doing okay so far, I think. Christina is very helpful. Your house is very beautiful."

"Where do you live, Tris?" She asks, feigning curiosity, but I can hear the venom with ease.

"Not around here." I answer shortly, putting two sugar cubes into the mug with a pair of metal tongs.

"Of course not, the people around here wouldn't resort to such a low class job as you have," she chuckles, but there's little humour there. "I read in your files that you lived somewhere on the other side of town? Care to expand on that?"

"You ask questions as if you already know the answers," I point out, trying my best not to come across as rude. "I made sure to add my address to the file; and I'm sure that you wouldn't want to know the details of my neighbourhood. There's nothing interesting there."

"I figured as much." She says, haughtily, as she takes the mug I offered.

"I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity to work here - I know you see it as a lower class position, but I do appreciate it all the same." I add, clenching my fists behind my back as I struggle to maintain an ever-so convincing smile.

"Well, no one can imply that I am not a charitable woman."

"Of course not. You are incredibly generous." I say, but I don't mean a single word. At least, I don't think that I do.

"You are dismissed." Nita then says, waving me off as she takes a sip of her coffee, and I watch as she nods in approval. _At least I got that right_ , I think to myself as I leave, closing the door behind me.

Before I go back downstairs, I peak into one of the spare rooms, and find Tobias sleeping atop of the bed, undisturbed it would seem. Christina must have discovered him whilst cleaning, and I'm just glad she didn't wake him up - he needs to sleep it all off more than anything.

I head downstairs and find Christina in the kitchen, cleaning out the fridge, checking for any spoiled items. "I'll have to go grocery shopping tomorrow - I was supposed to go today, but I was caught up in serving Miss Pablos upstairs," she says, sarcastically, as she notices my entrance into the room. "You can come along too, if you'd like. It gets us away from here for a little while."

"Sure, I'm in." I shrug, "D'you mind if we stop off somewhere in town afterwards? I won't be long, I just need to check up on something.."

"Of course. Anything that'll give us more time to spend in public, rather than being cooped up in here."

"Can I ask you something?" I request, carefully.

She looks over at me, apprehensively. "Yes..."

"Well, you appear to despise this job, so why do you stay?"

"Well, I need the money," she says, leaning against the counter. "Without this position, I wouldn't be able to pay my side of the rent, and Will wouldn't be able to cover the whole cost on his own. You're right; I do hate this job, but I have no other choice than to stay. It pays well, and gives us the opportunity to leave semi-comfortably."

I give her a small, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry -"

"Don't be sorry," she interrupts, poking my knee with the toe of her shoe. "You're allowed to ask me anything you want, I'm an open book, if you haven't already realised."

An open book - being ok with sharing your secrets with anyone who asks, or shows interest. She hides nothing, has no shame admitted what she is going through. I wish I could have that kind of confidence. Instead, I'm timid and secretive and defensive.

I like to carry my own problems with me, rather than talk about them in attempts to make myself feel better. It's fair to say that I'll never have that ease of assertiveness that she has.

A ghost of a smile is at my lips as I say, "I'm starting to."

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Sorry for the slow update guys, but this is my longest chapter to make up for it! I really enjoyed writing the interactions between Tobias and Tris, and I'm as excited as you guys seem to be for the time when they finally get together!**

 **The support I've gotten so far is crazy! Seriously - I appreciate every follow and favourite and review, as well as the PM's y'all send mess**

 **Leave a review and let me know what you thought to this chapter!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	8. Chapter 8

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 8 {Tris' POV}**

 **~two weeks later~**

 **-o-o-o-**

Echo slides our milkshakes across the counter, flashing us a bright smile before striding across the room to a table waiting to order.

Christina takes a sip from her straw eagerly, sighing in content as she swallows. It's the third occasion that I've brought her here, and each time she's decided to order the same chocolate milkshake, today being no exception.

We have now developed a routine - every Friday, after our trip to the grocery store just outside of town, we stop off at the diner for a half hour to grab a drink or a bite to eat, which gives me the opportunity to see Tori. She's taken a real liking to Christina, as most usually do. With her relaxed nature and big smile, it's hard not to like her.

Last week, Tori hired a girl to take my place as waitress - Echo Fields. Her father runs the small bookstore in town, and I'm familiar with their family; it's a small town, after all.

So far, Echo has being faring rather well here - the customers like her, and she's good at getting plates out there as soon as possible. She has chin length curls the colour of tomato soup, and is just a little taller than I am. She definitely attracts the teenage guys to eat here on their lunch break.

Echo is also able to work daytime hours on a Friday as she is homeschooled, and her parents allow her the time off to work here.

"So, you got everything sorted for Friday then?" Christina asks me between sips. "I mean, with your mom and all."

I sigh, stirring my straw around in the smooth vanilla milkshake, anxiously. "Yes, Tori has agreed to check up on her.. I just feel weird leaving her for so long. I'm supposed to be taking care of her."

I've filled Christina in partly about the situation at home - I have told her that she cannot look after herself, and I have had to be responsible for paying bills and buying food and keeping up the rent since my dad died. However, I have not disclosed what is really wrong with her, though it's not hard to guess.

"I don't understand why Nita just couldn't hire some people to work as servers for her stupid dinner party. Why did we have to get reeled into it?" She huffs.

"Because Nita finds amusement in our suffering." I respond simply.

Only yesterday, Nita called a 'staff meeting' to inform us of her plans for a dinner party of which she would be hosting tonight. Not only did she tell us only a day in advance, but she insisted that it was mandatory for us to work the party, no matter what we had planned.

Which meant Christina was forced to cancel her date night with Will, and I had to quickly call Tori from Christina's cellphone to ask her if she could give mom her nightly dosage of meds, considering that I would be serving the party until the early hours of the morning; seeing as we are expected to clean up too.

We were all allocated our jobs during that meeting too - Fernando would be in charge of the bar, quite obviously, considering that is his job and all. Harrison, the butler, is in charge of greeting guests at the door and taking them through to the dining room, as well as serving deserts.

Christina and I are the servers for the evening, which means waiting on Nita, Tobias and all of their arrogant friends. To clarify, we're all exceedingly delighted.

"D'you think she'll make us wear stupid outfits?" Christina worries out loud, chewing at her bottom lip.

"Most definitely, but what have we got to lose? Look at us!" I gesture towards us both, sat in the middle of the diner in our maid get-up, looking like complete morons.

"I think you both look adorable." Tori coos as she passes our table, and I roll my eyes.

We finish off our milkshakes quickly, and glancing at the clock, I notice that it's already a little past one. "We had better get going, Chris," I prod, moving to scoot out of the booth. "We have tons of prep to do, and Nita will get suspicious if we went back soon."

As Christina gathers up her stuff, I wander over to the front counter where Tori is fiddling with the cash register, but looks up as I approach, smiling.

"Leaving so soon?" She asks, and I pick up on the dejected tone.

"Yeah. Busy, busy," I answer, forcing a smile. "Thank you for helping me out so much, Tori. I promise you that it won't be for long, and tonight's nightly check-up is just a one-off."

Hesitantly, she says, "Have you ever thought about getting your mom some professional help, Tris? The hospital in the city has a real proper psychiatric ward, they could help your mom get better -"

"She doesn't need any of that," I say, firmly. "She needs me. Imagine her being carted off to the psycho ward in a hospital - her mental state would just worsen! I couldn't ever do that to her, Tori. I can handle it, I'm her daughter, I know that I can take care of her. I just need a little time to get everything sorted first. Ok?"

"Just a suggestion.. if you ever change your mind, give me a call and I can help you contact the hospital. Take some time to think about it. I know you have it under control, and you've been taking care of her for a while now, but you can't do it forever. Unfortunately, there are some things that you cannot put right. Your mom needs help, and maybe you can't provide it to the extent necessary. I know it's hard to hear, but you need to look at this realistically. How long do you intend to keep this up?"

"I know all of that. Of course I do. But I can't just shove her into a hospital. She's already lost Dad, and Caleb too, and now she'll think that she's lost me too. And I can't - I won't, do that to her." I insist, anger simmering inside of my stomach.

"Fine," Tori says, a snap of vexation leaving her mouth. "But I've watched you for years, struggling with all of the responsibility that's been forced upon you. I've watched you waste away in front of my very own eyes, and you don't even notice what's happening to yourself. This isn't just about your mom, this is about you. Because as much as you discard your own needs in life, nothing can disguise the fact that you matter too."

"I know what I'm doing, Tori," I shoot back, my tone moderately losing is bite, so I just sound tired. "I understand what you are saying to me, and I know that you're right. I just need time, okay?"

I don't give her the chance to answer, because I've already grabbed Christina who was lingering a ways away, trying not to intrude, and exited the diner.

I feel terrible about getting into a disagreement with Tori - she's been nothing but kind and generous to me, but she just doesn't understand what it's like to be in my shoes. And that isn't her fault, but it's a lot harder than she makes it out to be. I should go back in and apologise, try to talk about things rationally, but right now I haven't the time nor the patience to do so.

"What was that all about?" Christina asks, curiously, as we reach her car.

"It's nothing.. just some complications that we'll iron out another time. Don't worry about it." I assure her, before slipping into the passenger seat. Wordlessly, she gets behind the wheel and puts the car into drive, backing up out of the parking space we claimed.

As we drive back, I keep my eyes stilled on the world outside of the slightly tinted windows, thinking about what Tori said.

Of course I've looked into professional care for my mom, at the very same hospital and the very same ward that Tori was telling me about, but I couldn't bring myself to go through with the idea. I'm afraid she'd hate me for it; she can't stand hospitals, and what gives me the right to chuck her in one?

I remember as a kid, I fell off my bike and broke my arm, and mom had to take me to hospital. She detested every second of it, wincing at the smell of disinfectant and the sound of small whimpers of injured patients. Sure, she's in a somewhat comatose-like state, but she's aware of what's happening, and I know that she's in there somewhere.

But even so, it's an opportunity for her to get better, and I should be willing to take advantage of it, right? But maybe the real problem isn't with mom, maybe it's the fact that I'm just scared. Scared to admit that it's out of my control, scared to come to terms with what's really happened to the woman who used to be my mother. And I'm not so sure if I'm ready to do that just yet.

It makes me incredibly selfish and terribly self-absorbed, but I'm just not ready. Perhaps I never will be.

I take a deep breath and exhale heavily. I need to stop acting like a child, and deal with what's in front of me. Mom's condition is out of my hands, and as much as I try, I cannot fix her. She needs the help that I can not, and never will be able to provide. She deserves that help. She deserves to get better, to claim her life back.

By the time we pull up to the gates of the house, I've made my decision - I'll call Tori tomorrow and ask her for the hospital details, at least so I can look further into what services they can provide. I can visit her while she's there; maybe I can convince Nita to let me have a couple hours off to go in and see her. Whatever happens, I'll make it work. I'm kind of an expert in that particular area, unsurprisingly.

Upon entering the house, with Harrison opening the door for us, I instantly hear Nita lecturing somebody - and I can only assume it be Fernando. She seems to have a certain dislike towards him, and picks on him more than she does us. However, Tobias gets on with him well - from what I've witnessed which is little - so I'm willing to bet that he is the reason that Fernando hasn't been kicked out on his butt yet.

But as we enter the kitchen, our hands laden with bags, I see that it is Tobias himself that is being lectured by Nita, who is busy buttoning up her coat while talking. We begin to unpack the groceries, and I try not to listen-in, but it's awfully hard when they are having a rather loud conversation in the same room as me; I can't exactly help but overhear what they're talking about.

"Please try not to embarrass me tonight, I know how you get around people you don't know, and it's beyond shaming. How can I be your wife when you act that way? It's like you don't love me at all." She huffs.

"Don't be silly, Nita," he protests, desperately. "Of course I love you.. I just get a little awkward at stuff like this. I can't help it.. I'm working on it, really. I just want to make you happy, and I promise that I'll try to do better."

"You know I only say all this for your own good, I'm trying to help you. And your promises no longer mean anything; actions speak louder than words, and so far, I'm not impressed."

I watch Christina's eyebrow flicker upwards, and she looks as though she wants to say something, but I shake my head at her, praying that she keeps her mouth closed. Thankfully, she picks up on my alarm and retreats back to unpacking groceries.

I've realised over the course of my short time here, that speaking up isn't a good idea. Nita and Tobias are our employers, our superiors, and they have the power to ruin my whole life, and I've allowed them to control me that way. If I get myself into any kind of trouble, they could drop me out on the doorstep, and then where would I be?

I know that I have to hold my tongue, and that I must choose what I say wisely and carefully. Otherwise...

"I understand," Tobias answers her, dejectedly. "I swear to you that I'll make a good husband, just give me half the chance and I will prove it to you. Just you wait and see."

In the next few minutes, they halt their little conversation and Nita tells us that she's going to the florists, and ends up taking Christina too, much to her dismay. I finish up unpacking just as the front door closes behind them.

I watch as Tobias stands from his previous position on the barstool, and turns to me. I raise an eyebrows in question.

"So.. what about that cooking lesson?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, we never got around to it, and I could really use the pointers."

We haven't had many interactions for the past few weeks, being that I've been so busy, and him with his work also. And because of his rare appearances around the house, Nita has been extra snappy, causing misery for all the staff. I should turn him down, tell him that I've got work to get on with, but I can't help but take pity on him.

I've heard Nita make comments there and then about his lack of culinary skills, but I have a feeling that she wouldn't even know how to work a microwave. And maybe if I helped him out now, there would be less arguments between the two. At least then Nita would find herself in better moods, which means we would not become subject to her pent-up rage.

"Why not. I'm not sure how long Miss Pablos will be gone, though, so I'll just teach you some of the basics.." I concede, nodding.

"Great," he beams. "What is the easiest thing to make, that maybe wouldn't burn the kitchen down?"

"How about I just show you how to whip up some pancakes? They're pretty simple, you just need to know your way around a frying pan."

"That idea is out of the window then. I have no idea what to do with a pan of any sort." He chuckles, but I sense the self consciousness laced into his voice.

"Don't worry about it, I can teach you. That's why it's a cooking lesson." I assure him, scouring the cabinets for the best-looking frying pan.

"So what ingredients are we going to need, chef?" He asks jokingly, giving me a teasing salute.

"Flour, sugar, cinnamon, baking powder, salt, milk, 2 eggs, butter and chocolate chips." I recite from memory as I preheat the pan on the stove. After some guidance on what the flour packet looks like, he manages to deliver me all the correct ingredients in under three minutes.

I grab a mixing bowl from the cabinet aside my legs, and - with Tobias's help - combine all of the dry ingredients into the bowl. As he mixes that up, I use another bowl to whip together the wet ingredients before gradually adding it to the other bowl, Tobias taking on head stirrer.

"So you used to cook as a kid?" He asks, a little curiously from what I can tell.

"Yep. My mom used to be a huge foodie, would spend all of her time cooped up in our kitchen. The smells in our house were never boring," I smile a little, remembering those days. "She'd always have stuff for us to try, whether it be cookies or soup or weird combinations of foods."

"She sounds great, but you speak about it like it's past tense. Does she not enjoy those activities anymore?"

"You could say that," I answer, carefully. "She just hasn't the time anymore, you know."

I'm not sure why I divulged a part of my past with this man in the first place. I hardly know him. So why do I talk about the usually painful memories with him with such ease? But there's a weird sensation I get in my stomach, and words claw at my throat, desperate to escape my lips. It's like I want to tell him about it all. I don't, of course. But it's an odd kind of urge. Not normal at all.

"My mom never did much baking, so I never had the opportunity to pick anything up," he tells me as I begin to pour in the chocolate chips, and he folds them into the batter. "She just left it to our designated cooks. Well, for a while, at least. There was this lovely lady we had called Evangeline. I think I must have been around eight when she was there. She made all kinds of cakes - cheesecake, banana bread, carrot cake, the lot - but then my mother went on this mad macrobiotic diet and drove the cook crazy with what she could and couldn't eat, so she left and that was the end of my cake-fest."

"Poor little eight year old Tobias with no cake in sight." I laugh.

He grins. "Oh, don't worry about that. I certainly didn't - there was this bakery not far away from my house, and they did the best chocolate cake. I'd sneak a slice or two now and again. And she was none the wiser. Well, until she found the crumbs on my carpet.."

We turn away from the counter and towards the now fully-heated frying pan, and I step back and allow Tobias to attempt at spooning in the mixture. He does considerably well, for a first timer that is. I take out a spatula for when it's time to flip them over.

"I've always had a sweet tooth," I admit. "Especially for Hershey's kisses; I must have eaten pounds of the things growing up."

"Is that so? Well, I guess you could say I'm a bit of sweet and savoury - chips are great, but I could also go for candy bars too," he reasons with himself, and I can't help but crack a small smile. "But I'm not accustomed to eating those anymore - Nita doesn't take to chocolate or candy. Her strict diet doesn't allow it apparently. Therefore, my treats have been revoked too."

I flip over the pancakes with the spatula, and watch him closely, now that he's not paying close attention to me or our conversation. He seems a little down, I notice. I think the whole situation with Nita is impacting him more than he'd like to admit. I'm not too sure whether it be hurt or anger or just boredom, but it's not my place to intervene.

So I look back to the pan and concentrate on cooking the pancakes as close to perfection as I can get them.

"Hey, how do you make a pancake smile?" He asks, a mischievous smile on his lips. "Butter him up."

I roll my eyes at his lame joke and take the pan off the heat. "Seriously, that is the best you got?"

"I'd like to see you come up with a better one." He challenges.

"Fine.. why was the pancake a bad singer? Because he was flat."

"And that was better than mine? Yeah, right. Keep dreaming." He laughs and goes over to the large refrigerator to retrieve the whipped cream and some strawberries.

I plate the slightly lopsided pancakes up and Tobias gets to work drenching them in whipped cream, as I cut up the strawberries. He seems to be excited at the prospect of something sugary; Nita isn't around to stop him.

He sits down at the island counter on a barstool with the mountain of pancakes fruit and cream, as I carry the dirty dishes over the sink. But before I can get started on cleaning them up, he clears his throat, forcing me to turn around to see what he wants.

"Well.. aren't you going to join me?" He asks, gesturing to the stack before him.

I frown. "No, that's alright. It wouldn't be appropriate, besides we made them for you -"

"Wouldn't be appropriate?" He echoes, puzzled. "If you won't join me willingly, then I shall have to use the employer card - it is mandatory for you to sit down and enjoy our creation with me, otherwise I will be forced to revoke your position here."

Sighing, I move around the counter and perch in the stool beside him. He hands me a fork and I take a small mouthful, unsure of this whole thing.

I shouldn't have even initiated in a cooking lesson, with it being so inappropriate and all, and now this? I'm supposed to be his maid, not his friend. Maybe I'm just overthinking it. I'm just helping him out with cooking tips, which is a harmless move on my part, and now he's just being kind in making me enjoy the pancakes with him.

But still, something doesn't feel right, and there's an anxious feeling swimming around in my stomach, screaming at me to move, but I can't bring myself to do so.

"These are good," he says, after swallowing his first large mouthful. "I'm proud of us. Well, it was mostly you but I helped. So I'm going to take at least a quarter of the credit."

"You can make these alone next time, so you have learnt something. Well, maybe not when Miss Pablos is around - I don't want to get you into trouble with the whole sugar ban thing." I add, taking a forkful of strawberries and cream from the top.

"It was more fun with someone to make them with. And I may forget when the next time comes around." He shrugs, innocently.

"I don't think Miss Pablos would approve -"

"Why are you always worrying about what's appropriate, and what Nita would approve of?" He asks, stopping his attack on the food abruptly. "It's not like you've done anything wrong. You've _helped_ me."

"I just don't want to get fired," I whisper. "I need this job, and I don't want to cause any problems. And by the way you speak about her, it doesn't seem like she'd find this cooking lesson appropriate to take place. I mean, I'm your _maid_."

"You won't get fired," he assures me. "Even if Nita did flip, I wouldn't let her just fire you, Tris. Besides, the place has looked extra spotless since you've been around. She can't afford to lose you. And if you don't mind my asking.. why do you need this job so badly? There are plentiful other jobs over in the city, I'm sure."

"I just do, ok. Some things happened at home, and it has fallen upon me to bring in the cash to keep us stable. It's not relevent to this conversation however, and I just want to do things by the book," I answer, sharply. "And most decent firms wouldn't want to hire a high school dropout with no qualifications to her name. That's just the way it is."

We eat the rest of the pancakes in a weird silence, and the tension is almost too much to bear. I wish he had never asked, and I wish I had never given him the satisfaction of an answer. As soon as the plate is clear, I swipe it up and head back over to the sink, placing it with the others.

"Tris..." I turn, reluctantly. "Thank you. And I'm sorry if I seem insensitive.. I'm just trying to figure you out. You're very mysterious, if you weren't already aware."

He leaves then, and I manoeuvre back to the dirty dishes, scrubbing them furiously.

 _I'm_ mysterious? He's kidding, right? How can he be the one to call me a mystery, when I have no idea what the fuck is going on inside of his head! I'm usually very good at reading people, but not him. He's different. And I don't know if I like it or not.

I exhale heavily, and push my hair back out of my eyes. If these thoughts in my head are battling it out all night, then this should be one interesting dinner party.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **A new chapter! I decided to write up the cooking lesson as it was something you guys were excited to read about, and add a time jump to hurry things along a little. The dinner party will be the next chapter, so stay tuned to see what happens!**

 **The reviews y'all leave seriously warm my heart, and I appreciate everyone who takes the time to not only read but support this story! It gets me excited to upload a new chaper!**

 **Leave me a review and let me know what you thought to the FourTris encounter!**

 **\- GuilyMind**


	9. Chapter 9

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 9 {Tobias' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

I stand still as Nita straightens my shirt collar, inspecting me closely, seemingly to ensure that I look presentable enough for the occasion.

At times like these, I forget that she's my fiancé and mistake her for my mother. I'm a grown man, and don't need her crowding me this way constantly; but she either doesn't care or doesn't notice my resentment when she acts like this - which is the majority of the time, to be honest.

The suit she chose is probably one of my nicest and extensive in price, particularly the latter. It looks good, but I know why I've been forced into it; I need to cohere with the whole image that Nita has managed to create for us. I need to be dressed at my best, showing off the fact that I have wealth, and can afford such luxuries. I don't care for the whole charade.

"Remember what I told you," she says, adjusting her diamond necklace back into the correct place. "Be social. Get involved with conversation, and if not, then at least act like you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. And for one night can you please treat our staff as employees? I know you see them as equals, but tonight, they are nothing but the people serving us. Ok?"

I want to protest, to argue on their behalf, but I can't bring myself to start an argument. Lately, I've been getting very tired of all of her bullshit, and my patience is beginning to wear scarily thin. Insurgency is blazing in my veins, and I'm not sure how long it will be until I explode. I can almost hear a ticking sound in my head, like some kind of bomb just waiting to obliterate anything and everything.

It scares me, but also thrills me; it makes me aware that there's a part of me that can stand up to her, and will do so when the proper time arises. But that time is not now, so I plaster a smile onto my face and feign agreement.

"Yes, of course. Anything you want." I say, almost robotically, but I make sure to sound reassuring. I don't do a very good job, but if she notices she evidently doesn't care much, and just leans in to kiss my cheek swiftly, beaming.

Downstairs, final preparation is being done - the caterers Nita brought in are busy in the kitchen, Fernando is shining up glasses at the bar with the help of Harrison, and Christina and Tris are setting the grand dining table.

I suppress an eye roll as I survey what uniforms they've been pushed to wear - white shirts with ugly, black trousers and black waistcoats - same goes for Fernando, but Harrison is wearing his usual butler attire. Suddenly, I feel a little grateful that I'm not being shoved into clothes as bad as that, and that Nita has a good sense of what to dress me in for social events.

I do my best to talk her out of the ridiculous uniform rules, but she doesn't pay much attention, and I didn't think she'd let them off easily tonight either. As she said before, Nita does not view them as equals, which explains why she dresses them so badly - to show that they aren't in the same social class as us. It's horribly cruel.

My eyes linger on Tris for longer than they should as she sets silverware out on the table, which is covered in a pristine white cloth. Her hair is down, tumbling down to her waist in a waterfall of blonde, and she even manages to make the hideous uniform look good. At least, it looks good on her.

I flit my eyes away from our pretty maid, feeling guilty. I should be thinking those kind of things about my fiancé, not Tris. Thankfully neither women noticed, as both are distracted - Tris with the task at hand, and Nita is conversing with Harrison about the schedule for tonight, and the guest list.

I overhear her mention something about one of her father's old friends is bringing his son along, who is apparently around our age. She had her choice of who was to attend tonight, and was wary about inviting Zeke and his mother, as well as his brother Uriah. However, I insisted. They are family to me, and I told her clearly, "if they're not there, then neither am I".

She didn't argue with that ultimatum, and agreed reluctantly. I may be victim to cowardice when it comes to arguing against her on the most part, but I have my limits and my boundaries.

Nita doesn't take well to the Pedrad's because they aren't your typical upper class family - they don't conform to the stereotype, they are what you could call the divergents of the liflesss, uneventful lives the generality lead. I can appreciate that glimmer of rebellion, but Nita doesn't feel the same way. Which hardly surprises me; she bears the same moronic mindset as the others.

The past few weeks, I've been second guessing our relationship a lot more frequently. And I'm not even sure if I want to marry her, she's just not my type of girl. But I can't just cancel the wedding and break up with her.

Everyone would be so disappointed in me, I don't even want to think what mother would say. It's likely that she'd disown me, pretend I don't exist, remove me from her life completely. She's so desperate for me to get married and enjoy a life she never got the chance to, that she doesn't see how unhappy I am.

Nita might make someone very happy one day, but that individual is not me. Everyone talks about soul mates and everlasting love, but I'm yet to experience the said phenomenon.

I need to start looking at my life closely, and make some necessary decisions. I have been living my life for other people, and I'm not sure how much longer I can do that for.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of cutlery hitting the marble floor. Simultaneously, Nita and I both snap our heads towards the source, and my eyes fall upon Tris who is picking up a handful of forks that she dropped, crouched down.

"God, can't you do anything right?" Nita snaps, her face scrunching up in disgust. "Can I even trust you to serve my guests? If you mess up in any way -"

"It's just a couple of forks, Nita. Calm down." I interrupt, annoyance clouding my judgement as I walk over to Tris who is still on the floor, and assist her in collecting up the last of the silverware. "It was an accident, and I'm sure she'll do great during service."

Tris scrambles to her feet, and I follow, handing over the forks I managed to collect. She gives me a small, anxious nod in thanks, glancing at something over my shoulder - Nita, I presume. I don't have to be looking at her to know that she is probably purple in the face right now, and I'll be in the doghouse for a few days for pulling this stunt.

Wincing internally, I force myself to turn around and - as expected - my fiancés face is thunderous, her dark eyes narrowed dangerously, her muscles tightened. But before anyone can say anything else, the doorbell goes, and Harrison hurries off to welcome the first round of guests.

"We'll talk about that later on, make no mistake." She hisses before tugging me into the hall, so we can also greet our guests.

Slowly but surely, people begin to filter in, and Fernando's requests at the bar increase. Everybody lingers in the lounging area with glasses of their choice of drink, socialising with one another.

I'm introduced to Mr Pablos's friend and his son - Eric - early on, and I'm not sure of what to make of the duo quite yet. Eric doesn't exactly look like the others; what with his face piercings and neck tattoo, but the snobby way he spoke to me earlier revealed that he is definitely like everybody else around here. Nita seems to have taken a liking to him though, and I spotted them talking rather closely by the bar. I can't bring myself to care much; at least this way she is out of my hair.

Christina and Tris are slipping in and out of people, holding silver trays of canapés, offering them to the guests. I watch their nasty expressions emerge as they turn their backs - they look at the two girls outraged, as if they will catch some kind of disease if they get too close.

But I don't have time to stew in my frustration, as a hand claps my shoulder and I turn to see the two Pedrad's brothers, their mother greeting a semi-familiar woman a good ways behind them.

"What's up, bro." Zeke grins, punching my bicep. "Long time no see."

"I thought you were dead for a while, that's how long it's been." Uriah adds, rolling his eyes playfully.

"I know, I've just had a lot going on. With work, Nita, the wedding plans.." I apologise, sighing through my words.

"Nice to see you've come up for air though." I glare at Zeke, unamused.

"Not in that way. Just busy dealing with her in general, y'know. The drama, if you will."

"Well, duh," Uriah laughs. "The girl is a walking, talking soap opera. Seriously, she could make spilled milk into a tragedy."

Before I can answer, Hanna swiftly interrupts and pulls me into a motherly embrace. She pulls away and beams at me enthusiastically. "You look lovely, Tobias. But a little pale, are you eating well? Getting enough sleep?" She queries.

I can't help but chuckle as I assure her that everything is fine and that I'm taking care of myself correctly. She's always checking up on me, and it warms my heart to see the way she treats me; like I'm part of the family. And I guess you could say that I am. Zeke and Uri are practically brothers to me, and Hanna has always welcomed me as one of her own. And before Mr Pedrad passed, he would include me in all of the stuff he used to do with his actual sons. I was never left out of anything, and they all made my childhood somewhat positively memorable.

"Mom, he's a grown ass man, lay off a little." Uriah interjects, but shrinks away when Hanna snaps her head towards her youngest, eyes narrowed.

"Don't use that kind of language here," she scolds. "Show some respect, perhaps? And yes, Tobias is a grown man, but even a man needs someone to check up on them, don't you think?"

"He has Nita that for kind of stuff, ma." Zeke reasons, throwing me a wink, to which I respond with a scowl.

"She clearly isn't doing that good of a job," she says, her voice quietening considerably, and she turns back to me, forcing a watery smile. "Remember who is in control of your life, dear." With one last withering glance at her sons, she crosses the room where a group of women greet her happily.

"Damn, what was that all about?" Uriah questions, watching me closely.

I shrug and decide to play the innocent card. "Not sure. She's probably just worried."

But I know what she meant; she can see what nobody else can - the cracks in my relationship, the dent that she's put in my self confidence. I'm not sure whether the fact that Hanna sees it too should worry me or relieve me.

At least I know that I'm not just imagining it all up. But I'm not sure that I want it to be real. I can foresee a lot of shit going down soon, and I'm not looking forward to the time where I'll have to hash it all out.

I go to open my mouth again, but swallow my words as Tris stops by us, anxiously it would seem. "Would you like anything?" She asks us, gesturing towards her silver tray balanced on her hand.

I watch as both of their eyes look up her and down, and a smirk curls at Zeke's mouth as he takes all of her in. My hand clenches around my glass, involuntarily. I don't like the way that he's looking at her; like she's a piece of meat. But I understand his intentions, she is a very pretty girl.

Her eyes flit to mine briefly before moving on, and I chew the inside of my cheek, wondering where my protectiveness is coming from. She's nothing to me specifically, just my maid. So why am I annoyed at the thought of anybody looking at her in that way?

"Who is _that_?" Zeke asks, watching her retreating form, licking his lips.

"Our new maid, she started a couple weeks ago. Her name is Tris."

"Well damn, you really are living in the lap of luxury, Eaton," he whistles, shaking his head. "Living in this big ass house, having a supermodel-looking fiancé, and even hotter maids?"

"Close your mouth, brother. You'll catch flies." Uriah teases, shoving him with his shoulder.

"Does she have to wear the sexy maid outfit?" Zeke asks me, ignoring his brother completely.

"Mhmm, but don't get any ideas. She's my staff, so don't go getting inappropriate. I know how you can get around the female population.."

"But she's not my staff, so technically it wouldn't be inappropriate." Zeke counters, smirking.

"She's off limits." I say, firmly.

"Why? You called dibs or something?" Uriah laughs, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

"No, but I think she has a boyfriend," I lie, quickly trying to cover myself up. "I've heard her talking to Christina about him once or twice.. Dan, I think his name is."

"I should've known," Zeke tuts. "With an ass like that, of course someone would've picked her up already."

Before anymore words can be exchanged, Harrison stands in the doorway and clears his throat, capturing our attention. "Dinner is served," he announces. "If you would make your way into the dining room and take your seats, appetisers will be out momentarily."

Everyone filters into the grand dining hall, which has now been fully set out, each piece of silverware immaculate and polished to perfection. We take our seats, with Mr Pablos at the head of the table. I sit with Zeke, Uriah and Mrs Pedrad, opposite Nita, my mother, Mrs Pablos, and Eric and his father.

I notice the close proxemics between Nita and Eric, and I think Zeke picks up on it too as he nudges me, his eyebrows discreetly raised. I just shrug and take a sip of the champagne that was already poured into stemware on the table.

They're probably just good friends. Or maybe they're trying to preserve body heat? Whatever, she's probably just enjoying the company of a man who doesn't embarrass her socially, and emotionally. I'm willing to bet Eric doesn't wake up in the middle of the night because of haunted dreams. I'm unworthy of the title of her fiancé, not that I particularly want it anymore..

"Appetisers this evening will consist of watercress and celeriac soup with goat's cheese croutons." Harrison explains as Christina and Tris serve up the bowls of bright green, delicious-looking soup. Nita insisted on hiring professional caterers for the occasion, and considering the price of their help, I'm more than pleased to discover the quality of the food is exceptional.

"So, Tobias," Mrs Pablos says after a spoonful of her soup. "Tell me all about your plans for the wedding. Nita mentioned you had arranged for it to be in January time, when it is most likely to snow. Imagine that, a white wedding. It would be simply magnificent, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, it is all very exiting." I reply, smiling weakly.

"Tobias isn't exactly keen on the idea of having it in the winter, but I insisted. I wouldn't want to be out in the sticky heat, and be sweating while reciting my vows." Nita chips in, her voice bearing a juxtaposition of sweet yet poisonous.

"Bridezilla much?" Zeke mutters from beside me and I suppress a smile, covering my mouth with my hand subtly. Hanna heard him too, and elbows him in the ribs, carefully so that nobody else sees the exchange.

"Well, I think that it's a great idea," my mother adds. "I'm sure it will be a beautiful ceremony, and I'm excited for the day to finally arise."

"As am I," Mr Pablos smiles, looking across at me, almost proudly. "Tobias shall make an excellent son-in-law, I'm certain of it."

Conversation topic then steers away from me and the wedding, and we end up revolving around Eric next.

"I manage a business firm over in the city, and I've made quite the name for myself," he chuckles, speaking rather highly of himself it would seem. "I make quite a bit of money too, and most would call me one of the most successful business men in the state, in fact."

"And you're so young too, it's a wonder that you have the time to do it all." Mr Pablos praises, smiling brightly at the not-so humble entrepreneur.

"Did you go to college?" My mother asks, curiously.

"Yes, I graduated with honours from Harvards in Business Studies, so I have a good idea of what it takes to run a firm such as mine. College was definitely a maturing experience, and has widened my opportunities in a range of areas." He answers, haughtily.

Then he turns to me, a knowing smile on his lips. "What college did _you_ graduate from?"

"I didn't go to college, I went straight from high school into the work place and climbed my way up the ranks." I reply, blandly. He's trying to get a rise out of me, but he's wasting his time.

I don't care about where he went to school, or what he's accomplished. I don't even want to waste my breath in having a conversation with this guy, but I will not make a scene in front of everyone. But I can admit that I don't like him, even on first glance. There's something remarkably vexatious about him. I don't have to know him well to recognise that.

"Why is it that you didn't move on to further education?" He presses. "Did you not get accepted to any colleges or was it just your executive decision?"

"I didn't apply to any colleges, but I was given offers. That path just wasn't for me, is all."

"That's true," Zeke interjects, coming to my defence. "He was given more offers than anyone in our graduating class."

"It's just a shame that intelligence didn't go to a better use." Eric retorts, his eyes steady on mine. Hatred burns within them, which confuses me. How could he look so opposed to my existence when he has only known me five minutes?

"On the contrary, Tobias has done exceedingly well in my company, and I've had nothing but good reports," Mr Pablos adds, neutrally, taking a drink of his Scotch. "So it would seem that his intellectual capacity has not gone to waste, after all."

I give him a tight lipped smile, grateful at his attempt to regain some of my pride. Eric has trampled upon the rest of it - he comes here into my home, initiates in not-so discreet advances towards my fiancé, and then has the audacity to question my education? He has some balls, I'll give him that.

"It would seem so." Eric concedes, but I see the smirk he only half-suppresses while taking a sip from his own glass.

"That soup was wonderful," My mother speaks up, breaking the tense moment of silence beginning to build up. "Who is responsible for this delicacy? Your staff?"

"I have hired caterers for this evening. French experts, in fact. They cost a fortune, but they were definitely worth the price, don't you know?" Nita answers, smiling smugly. "And besides, my staff wouldn't be able to whip up something this impressive. The prospect is laughable."

I bite my tongue and finish the last spoonful of my soup, forcing myself to not comment on the subject. She hates it when I stand up for them just to her, so I can't imagine what she'd do if I brought it all up here and now, in front of everyone. I doubt I'd ever see the light of day.

"Are you sure?" Mrs Pedrad asks, daring to speak out. "Perhaps they have hidden talents. I'm positive they could rise to the occasion if given the chance to do so, wouldn't you say?"

"Their hidden talents are so hidden that even they can't find them. And besides, do you really think anyone with valuable talent would resort to working in a servent-like position?" She scoffs in return, her dark eyebrows twitching upwards.

"People are forced to do neccesary things in order to function in life," Hanna replies calmly. "We are lucky enough to not be required to make many sacrifices, but others don't share the same luck as we happen to. We must remember that."

Harrison emerges at the doorway with Tris and Christina, who bear plates of steaming food, and interrupts what could have been a dangerous conversation.

"Dinner tonight is a baked lemon sole with supplemental lemon, as well as some of the finest caper paste." He broadcasts as the two women serve the table their meals. Tris slides my plate in front of me, and she allows our eyes to catch momentarily before she looks away, anxiously.

I hate that she's afraid to even speak to me in a way that's unprofessional, so to speak. She's so convinced that Nita would fire her just for looking at me. And it's a smart fear, as the idea is rather realistic. But I want her to know that I wouldn't allow that to happen. I may not have much of a backbone when it comes to Nita, but I know that Tris needs this job, so I will fight against her.

Sure, she hasn't actually divulged any information about herself, but by the way she talks about her mom, something seems wrong there. And the prospect of being stripped of her position seems to daunt her terribly, so she really must need this place. It isn't my place to ask more, but I should have her back. Discreetly, of course.

I try to convince myself that I would react as uneasily about Christina, Fernando and even Harrison too.. but I'm aware that's a lie. I have the urge to shield Tris from it all, but I don't even know what ' _it_ ' is, or why I feel this way. Why does my head always have to mess everything up?

Or is it my gut? Or my heart? Fuck, I don't know, they are all as bad as each other!

I feel a sharp jab against my shin and I withhold a grunt, snapping my head up to Nita who sits opposite me, glaring. She must have noticed my dazed state and kicked me with her stiletto. Those things are painful as hell.

Dinner passes by without a hitch; no one starts throwing knives or screaming at each other, at least. The guests leave after another post-dinner drink, and I sit at the kitchen counter with the remains of my cola and vodka combination once the house is completely emptied. The vodka brings back some not-so tasteful memories, though.

It's unnaturally silent - I expected Nita to be hovering as the caterers packed up, but she was nowhere to be seen. I still don't know where she is, but I can only assume she's gone to take a bath or something.

Christina left just after the guests had, as her boyfriend had called about a leak in their apartment, and she had to run back there asap. But Tris has been reeled into staying behind to help with the clear up, and I saw her pass into the dining room a couple minutes ago.

I can't help but dwell on the conversation Eric and I had - was my intelligence wasted by not going to college? I was so eager to get on with a real world job, but maybe it was the wrong path for me. If I hadn't have made that decision, perhaps I would have the things I've always wanted. The freedom I have craved. Or maybe not.

I can't turn back the clock, I understand that, but I suppose I just can't help but wonder what my life would have been like if I had taken the college route.

I drink the rest of my beverage in one gulp, and turn on the stool to get to my feet. Instead of an empty kitchen, I see Tris, a cleaning rag in hand as she peers around the wall into the living room, her mouth slightly agape.

I clear my throat, quietly, so that I don't startle her badly, but she jumps into life anyway. Her head snaps to mine, and a mixture of pity and anger flashes in her eyes. My eyebrows come together in a frown, puzzled. _What was she looking at in that room?_

"Tobias," she whispers, approaching me warily. "Can you come and help me with the sheets upstairs before I go?"

This confuses me even more - she'd never ask for my help because Nita wouldn't approve, so why the sudden change of heart?

"What were you looking at?" I ask, ignoring her previous question.

"Nothing.. I-I just thought that I saw a r-rat or something."

"A rat? Really?" I scoff, clenching my jaw.

"Please don't go in there, just -"

I step around her and shrug off the hand that tries to pull me back, and walk silently to where she was standing before my presence became aware.

I now understand why Tris did not want me to see it. And the look she gave me. And why she now stands desperately a few metres away, running a hand through her hair. I can barely breathe.

Stood in the middle of the living room is Nita and Eric, caught up in a heated embrace, their lips locked in a kiss, which doesn't seem to be forced. They look thoroughly content with one another, in fact.

I can hear my heart drumming in my ears.

Taking a sharp intake of oxygen, I turn around and walk away, Tris staring helplessly after me, but doesn't say a word in protest as I flee from the scene.

- **o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Ah, dramatic chapter much? Sorry for the slow update, but I was working super hard on executing this chapter to the best of my ability, so I really hope you enjoy!**

 **I wanted to portray Tobias' doubts on his relationship, and also his confusing feelings towards Tris. He's very conflicted in general, so Nita's betrayal is going to muddle him up even more.**

 **Keep leaving reviews and let me know what you thought, I love hearing from y'all!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	10. Chapter 10

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 10 (Tris' POV)**

 **-o-o-o-**

I can't stop thinking about what I saw last night. What Tobias saw. I should've put more effort into stopping him. I expected world war three to break out then and there, but he surprised me by just walking away without a word. Did he not care? Or was he just too upset to confront her right then?

I'm not sure what I'm going to walk in to this morning. How bad is it going to be?

I step inside the foyer and run my hands together, trying to get them warm. It's nearing the end of November now, and temperatures have dropped prominently, but I'm working towards saving up for a heating system at home. Until then, I just have to wear layers and layers of thick clothing in bed, shivering as I fall asleep.

I slip out of my coat and hang it up in the storage closet, along with my purse. Christina's stuff isn't there, so I presume she hasn't arrived yet - early morning traffic in the city can get very ridiculous, and she is often running a little late.

Harrison bustles by me on my way to the kitchen and flashes me a smile. "Miss Pablos is out this morning, she said she had matters to attend to, whatever that means." He informs me before moving around the corner and out of sight. I frown a little, wondering what those matters are. That man she was kissing last night, of no doubt.

I decide to get started on the sheets I neglected to do before I left yesterday, so I make towards the stairs, tightening my ponytail as I climb the polished steps.

I grab clean sheets from the cupboard opposite the spare bedroom, and start switching them up. It's quick work, and I've done all the spare rooms in under ten minutes.

As I pass the library, I hear shuffling from inside and notice the door is cracked open slightly. Tobias must be hiding away in there.

I knock softly, but there's no answer. I figure that I should just walk away, being that it's evident he doesn't want to be interrupted. But I can't bring myself to do that; I feel like I should check in with him, despite it being fairly inappropriate. But he must be completely heart broken, and I can't just pretend like I didn't see anything.

So I push my way into his library, uninvited. He stands at one of the bookshelves the other side of the room, browsing through the shelves, his expression blank. He turns to me when I enter, and the blank expression turns to one of annoyance.

"Ever heard of knocking?" He snaps.

"I did knock, you didn't answer." I reply firmly.

He sighs and grabs a book of the shelf, not even bothering to look at me as he speaks. "Well, what do you want? I'm kind of busy, and need to be getting on, so it its not life or death..."

"I just, w-well I just wanted to see how you are doing. I know last night must have been terrible for you-"

"Last night?" He questions. "The dinner party? It was very pleasing. What are you insinuating, Miss Prior?"

I frown, puzzled. Has he seriously forgotten or is he just playing dumb? It must be the latter; being cheated on isn't just something you can forget about overnight.

"Tobias, you know exactly what I'm talking about. It's okay-"

"Okay?" He barks. "It's okay? No it isn't! My so-called fiancé made out with some guy in my own house, right under my nose. It's definitely not okay!"

I take a step back, chewing on my lower lip. I've never seen this side of him, and I don't like it. He's always been so kind and soft-spoken, I don't even know who the man stood before me is.

"I'm sorry. You are right. I shouldn't even be here, I'll leave you to what you were doing." I apologise quietly, backing away towards the door.

"No, I'm sorry," he sighs, running a hand through his messy chocolate curls. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. None of this is your fault.. I just don't know what to do. I never thought she'd do something like that to me. I know she can be a bitch sometimes, and very overbearing, but I never imagined she'd betray me like that. It's just.. well, I don't even know how to feel." He sits heavily down at the large wooden table, sinking into his chair, putting his head in his hands.

I suddenly have the urge to reach out to him, to hug him. I banish the thought to the back of my mind. The last thing he needs is me crowding him. He needs his space.

And besides, I'm his maid. I need to stop having this conversation with myself, but I get the same strange urges every time I'm around him. So the constant self-reminders are neccesary.

"In high school, my best friend was cheated on by her boyfriend of three years," I tell him. "She was on his phone and saw the text messages. She was completely devestated for months. She barely got out of bed most days. My Aunt Edith was also cheated on when she was about my age; but her reaction was slightly different - she put Nare in his shampoo bottle, and pushed dog crap through his letter box."

He emerges from his hands and chuckles slightly. "Where are you going with this?"

"Nita's betrayal is going to impact you massively. But everybody reacts differently. Whether it be total heartbreak, or resentment. You don't have to know how you feel about it all, because you're probably still in shock. But.. don't beat yourself up about it, is all I'm saying. The stuff that Nita does isn't on your conscience, and it's not your fault either." I explain, softly.

He gives me a watery smile. "Thank you. I really needed someone to say that to me."

"Say, why don't you come downstairs and I'll whip you up something in the kitchen," I suggest. "How about some beignets? They always manage to make me feel better."

"That sounds great." He agrees, standing up and wiping down his pants with his palms.

Down in the kitchen, he takes over one of the bar stools and I go scavenging through the cupboards for ingredients. I can make beignets in my sleep, so I know I'll be able to whip a few up in a little amount of time. I'm surprised to find that the cupboards hold all the correct ingredients. Although I guess I shouldn't be, it figures that Nita would pay for food that she wouldn't use, just because she can.

"I'm actually excited to try these," Tobias tells me as I begin to dissolve the yeast in warm water. "You seem to be pretty confident in them, so they must be good."

"Or I'm just conceited and ignorant." I answer, raising an eyebrow at him from across the counter.

"Nah, you're not like that," he shrugs. "Well.. at least from what I've seen. I would like to think you're the same all the time."

I just smile shyly as I add the other ingredients into the bowl. Does he really believe that I'm not like that? I mean, I've never thought of myself as a smug or egocentric kind of person, but he doesn't exactly know me all that well. It's flattering to know that he's appearing to believe that I'm not any of those things, though.

"So, how did you come across these beignets? Did your mom teach you?" He asks, curiously.

"Yeah, she did," I confirm, smiling a little. "And her mother taught her, whose mother taught her... it's a family recipie, I suppose. I've been making them since I was little."

"I wish I had your childhood," he sighs, resting his chin in his hand. "It sounded great; all the cooking, good memories.. I never got to experience all that stuff. There were too many bad things that took over."

I bite my lip. I did have a good childhood, but those memories are way too painful to constantly look back on - I know that I can never get my parents back, and will never have the chance to recreate any of those good times.

But I'm a bit taken aback by his words. What bad things have happened to him? I always assumed that he had a great childhood; was given everything he wanted, got to travel on amazing vacations, had more toys and gadgets that he could ever ask for.

But maybe it wasn't all sunshine for him. I guess that I shouldn't assume things about him just because he possesses a lot of things that I don't. Wealth and power doesn't matter in the big picture, bad things can happen anyway. And they usually do. Life isn't fair, I know that much.

"I know how that feels." I say, my fingers clenching around the wooden spoon that I'm using.

"The only good times I had as a kid was when I wasn't at home," he chuckles, humourlessly. "I spent as much time as possible with my friend Zeke - his family welcomed me into their home as one of their own. They are the closest I have to _real_ family, I guess."

I want to change the subject desperately, to run away from this whole conversation. I hate talking about my past, but a part of me wants to open up to him, as strange as it may seem. But there's something about Tobias that makes me feel somewhat at ease.

"I wish I had spent more time with my family," I tell him, my jaw clenched, uncomfortably. "I spent too much time out with friends, or I stayed up in my room on my laptop. I regret that now."

"Maybe you could make that time up now? Better late than never, right?"

"No.. it's already too late." I sigh.

"How come?" He asks, but upon noticing my tension, backtracks. "Sorry to pry, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I understand if you don't like talking about stuff, especially with people you don't exactly know very well."

"Well, er - I don't see my brother anymore.. he moved away to college and never came back, said he wanted nothing to do with us.. and yeah. Well there's some other stuff, but I try not to look back on all that..." I admit, but force myself to stop talking before everything comes spilling out of my mouth.

I may trust him, but he's not my friend. And I shouldn't be sobbing to him about all the shit that's happened to me. He's told me something, and I've done the same. I hope we can just leave it there, and that he won't expect me to tell him anything else.

And besides, I know all I'll get is pity, and that's what I don't want from him or from anyone. I've done this alone for a long time, and I'll continue to do so. I fly solo, that's just how it works. And I don't want pitiful glances or sympathising words. I don't need them. I just need to sort this whole thing out. And just like everything I do, I'll do it alone. No question about it.

"Life told me to grow up quick, and that's exactly what I had to do." I say, firmly this time.

"I had to do the same thing," Tobias informs me. "I never got the chance to do the stuff I wanted, because shit went down and I had to step up and take control of everything."

"And it sucks, right? When all you want to do is get out and see the world, but you're tied down to a place that never gave you what you needed; the freedom you always desired. Sometimes I just feel so.."

"Trapped." He finishes, lamely, fiddling with his hands.

"Yeah," I sigh. "Trapped in the scheme of things. Like I said, it's too late for me to get out now. But not for you.. you could still go travel the world and see new things. You have an opportunity right under your nose, Tobias. Take it."

"An opportunity?" He questions.

"Nita's deception could give you a way out.. if you can't work out the infidelity, I mean," I say, shrugging as I begin to roll out the dough. "You could get out of this crappy town and go on an adventure. Do those things you never got to do. I mean, if I was given that kind of chance I know that I'd take it."

"But I'm not you," he says, icily. "And I can't just pack everything up and leave. I have people here that I care about, and wouldn't just abandon. And besides, those ideas are just childish. You can't just go on adventures and forget about everything behind you. It's wishful thinking, Tris."

"You're right. You aren't me. But what's wrong with a little childish thinking? It's okay to dream a little, otherwise what's the point?" I counter, not taking his sudden change of attitude to heart.

"Because dreaming gets your head too far in the clouds, and stuff like that enjoys to kick you harder when you're already down. And besides, I'm not sure where I am with the whole Nita thing. Maybe it was a mistake? Maybe she didn't mean to? We're engaged, am I supposed to throw that all away?" He exclaims, but I can see that he looks conflicted. It's like his heart is telling him to go, but his head isn't so willing.

Why is he hesitating? Maybe that's what love does to a person, blinds them from the truth.

"What's holding you back? Truly?" I ask, genuinely curious.

He rubs the back of his neck, anxiously. "You don't understand what it's like around here. I'd disappoint everybody if I left Nita, even if the split was her fault. I'd get blamed. My mother would disown me, I'd be totally shunned from the community. Her father is my boss, which puts my work in the balance too. There's too much at risk."

I watch him, at a loss for words. I guess I never considered what his life must be like. I've never looked past the fancy gear and the stacks of cash. He must have his fair share of hardships too, just like the rest of us.

His engagement with Nita isn't exactly a healthy relationship, more like a prison cell. He can't escape, even if he wanted to. So I guess we're on the same page.

"I'm sorry." I say simply; unaware of what else I can tell him to put him at ease. I'm the last person to go to with relationship problems. Anything else, sure, but my skills lie outside the romance sector.

He gives me a watered-down smile and then says, "Don't be sorry. I shouldn't have unloaded off on you like that."

"No, it's fine. I know that I always freak out about keeping everything professional, but I.. well, I am here for you." I say, clearing my throat afterwards, embarrassed. Why did I say that?!

"Thank you.. same goes for you, of course." He answers without hesitation, a genuine smile curling at his full lips. Smiling back briefly, I turn my attention back to the task at hand and begin cutting the dough up into square-shapes.

I should feel bad for telling him that, he is my boss after all, but I can't bring myself to feel guilty at all. I'm done with punishing myself just for having a conversation with him. He doesn't seem impacted by it, so why should I be?

After another ten minutes, I've successfully fried the pastries, and they've come out a beautiful golden brown, just as I was aiming for. After a dusting of icing sugar, I put a couple onto a smaller plate and hand it to Tobias, who is licking his lips eagerly.

He holds one to his mouth and takes a bite, and I watch his face melt into a look of bliss and a pleasurable groan tumbles from his mouth.

"You like?" I ask, smirking as I wipe down the countertop.

"Definitely," he confirms. "These are bad ass, seriously. How have I never heard of these things before?"

"They aren't all that common in the US, but they are a New Orleans speciality. My great grandmother lived over there for a while, which is how the family recipe came to be."

As I make a start on washing the dishes, I grab one for myself and eat it quickly as I fill the sink with hot water. I hear the front door open, and Tobias's eyes snap to mine, his hand freezing midair. If Nita finds out I've been whipping up some pastries instead of doing my assigned tasks for the day, I'll be in so much shit.

"Mm, what is that smell? Did y'all know I was coming?" A voice sounds out from the foyer, and my shoulders visibly relax as I recognise the voice to be Christina's. She steps in to the kitchen shortly after that, her cheeks bright red due to the temperature outside.

"I should get back to work, thanks for these though." Tobias says as he gets up from his stool, picking up the plate. I give him a small nod in recognition of his thanks, and he leaves the room, quietly greeting Christina as he passes.

"How come you're so late?" I ask her as she takes his place on the stool, yawning.

"Oh, I lost track of time participating in some personal activities." She answers, giving me a suggestive wink.

I roll my eyes and throw the hand towel at her, shuddering. "I don't even know why I asked."

"Just because you're frigid, Prior." She teases, throwing it back.

"I'm _not_ frigid," I protest, my cheeks burning. "I don't talk about sex as openly as you do, that's all. So wind your neck back in."

"Oo, don't get so defensive," she coos, reaching over the counter to steal a beignet of the plate. "What are these things, anyway? Did Nita force you to make them for her cheat day or something?"

"Nita isn't here right now, apparently she has matters to attend to this morning. I'm not sure what that entails exactly."

"She's probably gone to meet up with the rest of the SBW society." She scoffs, blowing on the pastry as it's still warm.

"The SBW society?" I question, my eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Yep, for all the Snobby Bossy Witches up and down the country." She explains and I can't help but crack a smile. Taking a bite from her beignet, her face lights up too. "Wow, these are, like, killer. You made these? What even are they?"

"Beignets," I say, before turning back to the sink to continue washing dishes. "A pastry, in other words. I made them all the time at the diner."

"I bet they were popular, I could eat a dozen of these with a coffee or one of those milkshakes."

"Yeah, they were pretty popular with customers, which means I had to make so many, that I could probably do them in my sleep now." I shrug, laughing a little.

"And you made these because..." she says, trailing off curiously.

"Tobias was hungry, and I was waiting on you so we could do our jobs together so I just decided to do a few to pass time." I lie, swiftly.

She just shrugs and takes another bite out of her own, and then begins to tell me more about her passionate morning, laughing when I go beet red.

I'm not frigid like she says, of course not. But I've never been able to talk about such intimate encounters so openly. The idea of sex doesn't frighten me as such, just the embarrassment of talking about it with other people outside of the situation. I was the same in high school, all my friends would tease me and call me a stiff.

Unlike Christina, I'm incredibly inexperienced. I've had sex once, and it definitely left a lot to be desired. Peter Hayes may have been the stud of the school, but his skills in intercourse are abysmal.

He came in a matter of minutes, pulled up his trousers and left me alone in the spare bedroom, drunk and somewhat confused. He had moved onto the next girl a week later. I haven't done anything since that regrettable encounter.

"Hey, maybe I could set you up with someone," Christina suggests, and I almost choke on my own tongue. "My friend Al went through a real bad break up a few months ago, and is wanting to get back out there again. I'm sure you'd get on great, I could give him a call.."

"No thank you, I don't have time to date anyone right now. Between work and home stuff, it just wouldn't work out. And besides, we never get a day off work, so they'd be no time." I protest as nicely as possible.

"You could always come to a club one night with Will and I, we could go straight after work. You have to take a leap of faith, Tris! Stop thinking about it so much." She reasons.

"Thank you for the offer, but I just don't have the space to fit any guy right now," I express. "And clubbing is definitely not my scene. All the people, loud music, possible rapists putting drugs in your drink.."

"Ok, your loss. But if you change your mind, let me know and I'll let Al know." She shrugs.

After finishing off the beignets between us, we check our list of tasks for the day that are pinned up on the refrigerator. Christina heads off to clean the downstairs bathroom, while I grab the cleaning products from under the sink to clean the windows of the greenhouse-like building at the bottom of the garden.

I wasn't aware of its existence until a few days ago; Chris forgot to show it to me on the tour, and I only stumbled across it when I had to refill the bird feeder nearby.

I step outside and walk as quickly as I can through the gardens, blowing white puffs of air out of my lungs. I wish I had gotten my jacket, it must have fallen a couple degrees since I arrived - and this maid outfit doesn't provide much protection from the cold weather, meaning I'm shivering violently by the time I reach the greenhouse.

I let myself inside, and find myself mesmerised by its interior. I poked my head in here quickly when I first found it, but had too many things to do with very little time, and had to be on my way.

There is a mangled-looking tree in the centre, but it's a beautiful kind of deformity. Branches twist and tangle with the others, and the trunk is wrapped in green vines.

There is a wooden bench a good ways in, which reads, " _In loving memory of Richard Pedrad_ ".

Every wall is made of glass, except for one. That diverse wall is made up of stained glass, and I'm transfixed by the pink flowers, blue butterflies, and the glowing sun with spreading rays. Birds are on each panel too - bluebirds, canaries, finches, magpies, parrots.

I can't help but smile. Dad always loved this kind of stuff, and always wanted us all to go see all the amazing glass exhibitions at Kew Gardens in London. We never actually made it there.

We didn't have enough money to travel all the way to England, so we had to settle with 'The Bean' in Chicago. Nevertheless, it was an amazing trip, one that I'll never forget. I'd love to go back one day, but it's not very likely that'll happen.

It takes a while to clean the windows, but I still have a lot to do. By the time Nita gets back mid-afternoon, I have cleaned the entire kitchen, polished every flower vase in sight, and dusted every bedroom. Tobias hasn't emerged from the library, at least not to my knowledge.

"Good afternoon girls," Nita greets as she enters the kitchen where Christina and I are taking a breather from the non-stop work. "Can you make me a cappuccino while I go and freshen up. Then I need to find Tobias to discuss the wedding venue plans, do either of you have any knowledge as to where he may be?"

"Yes ma'am, and I believe that he's in the library, has been all day." I answer as Christina turns to switch on the coffee machine.

"Poor Tobias," she mutters after Nita leaves. "He'll be stuck with her talking his ear off most the afternoon, I'll bet."

I want to tell Christina about what I saw last night, but I can't; I promised that I wouldn't say a word, and it's not my place to share that information with anyone, anyhow.

"Probably." I say, simply.

When Nita returns, I hand her the cappuccino, and can't help but notice a dark mark on her neck that's been poorly attempted to be covered with makeup, and her usual perfume smell has been masked with something different. Something distinctly masculine.

The love bite could have been from Tobias, but it looks very recent, and I'm not sure how to excuse the scent issue. Her "matters that needed attending to" must have been very personal.

I can't help but feel sorry for Tobias; he's trapped in a relationship with a deceiving cheater, and cannot escape. We are similar in some ways - we are both stuck in the same routine, the routine that we are so desperate to break free of.

Maybe we're more alike than I thought.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **A new chapter! I wanted to update quickly for you guys as you really seem to be enjoying this story which I don't crazy, the support this story has received after only 10 chapters is literally insane.**

 **Keep leaving reviews and let me know what you thought of this chapter! Whose POV would you be interested in seeing next? Nita's perhaps?**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	11. Chapter 11

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 11 {Tris' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

The clock on the compact church tower informs me that it's a little past three in the morning, and I burrow deeper into my thin coat, clenching my jaw to prevent my teeth from chattering.

There isn't a soul in sight, and I'd like for it to stay that way, which is probable.

As I make my way down the narrow pathway, hands shoved deep into my pockets, a sense of clarity envelopes me like a blanket. I've always felt so comfortable here, which is odd, considering there are dead people buried all around me. But the silence gives me relief, and the peace it provides relaxes me.

I haven't visited the grave for a while, given the lack of time I now have to do anything other than care for mom and attempt to squeeze in some sleep.

But tossing and turning, unable to drift off, my opportunity surfaced. It's not like I was going to be able to get any kind of rest, anyhow.

The deafening silence is pierced suddenly and without warning by the deathly shriek of a crow. Again, it screeches, and again. Like the screaming of a child, or the roaring of a terrible beast; the presence of either wouldn't seem strange in this place. Tombstones rise up from the unkept grass, dotting the crowded yet empty court.

Fear should sit heavily on my chest, for anything could be hiding away in the darkness, but I walk on steadily, untroubled by the prospect. Not even the most dedicated of psychos would hang around here, not this late, nor when it is this cold.

Reaching the very edge of the graveyard itself, I carefully step my way over to the third one up, the one that reads, " _In loving memory of Andrew Prior. Wonderful father and husband, a friend to all. 1970 - 2016_."

I come to a stop in front of the slightly neglected tombstone, my breath catching in my throat, my eyes suddenly bright with tears. A tidal wave of melancholy washes over me, and my hands shake, but not from the cold. With a strangled sigh, I sit down beside the stone, crossing my legs beneath me.

I shouldn't be here, I should be at home in bed, wallowing in my sadness there. But the person I'm mourning over is here, so it's only right that I am here too. It's as close to him as I'm ever going to get. I feel like I should be crying, but no tears fall. They just cloud over my eyes and don't move, tormenting me.

Cold licks at my face and creeps under my clothes, like the lacy tide on a frigid winter beach. And the darkness surrounds me, the moonlight not quite stretching to where I am curled up on the ground.

I reach out and pluck a wilting flower, it's petals drooping dejectedly, neglected for what must seem like an eternity.

After my shift ended yesterday, I spent an hour or two browsing the internet on the laptop Christina allowed me to borrow, looking for places to send my mom. Places to help her get better. There are a dozen with available beds, and I've looked over the criteria; she meets it all. Now I've just got to call in and make a visitation appointment, considering we can't exactly go to them.

I'm still torn up about the whole thing, but I can't continue to be selfish - she needs help if she's ever going to recover, and maybe they will succeed where I clearly have failed. I've just got to pluck up the courage to do it.

I close my eyes and bury my head in my hands, wishing for the tornado of thoughts to just pass over for good. Then maybe I'd have a chance.

By the time I rise to my feet, ready to leave, the darkness has eased slightly, dawn clawing at the deep night, desperate to show its face. Being a little disoriented from zero sleep, I stumble back onto the footpath, rubbing at my eyes.

Before I can even reach the gate, I manage to trip over nothing, and the ground hurtles towards me at lightening speed. My cheek scrapes the gravel as I fall, and a sharp pain spreads over my eye, and I grit my teeth to prevent a yelp from leaving my mouth.

It's still beyond freezing, and I have the urge to just stay curled up on the path, uncaring. But I know I can't do that, I need to get up and keep walking.

I hold onto a nearby water pipe to balance me as I drag myself to my feet, taking a deep breath as I get light headed. Every part of my being aches, but I force myself to persevere through the walk home.

Once I do, the sky now streaked with the morning light, I collapse just inside the front door, effectively shutting it behind me as I slump down to the floor.

It's no warmer in here than it is out there, I realise. And if anything, the pain has multiplied and I feel as though I might pass out any second now.

I grab ahold of the staircase banister to hoist myself to my feet, leaning against the chipping wood for support. I glance at myself in the mirror opposite, and wince. My cheek is bloody and grazed, pieces of gravel still lingering, and my eye is bloody and already showing signs of bruising.

I make my way into the kitchen and splash my face at the sink, washing it free of dirt and gravel that could cause infection if they get caught in my cuts. I also use a damp napkin to prod at my eye, hissing through my teeth.

I abandon hopes of cleaning myself up and stagger upstairs to my bedroom, where I strip off my slightly dirty and damp clothes, switching them up for my usual maid uniform, spraying enough perfume to mask the scent of graveyard.

After brushing my teeth and splashing my face once more in the bathroom, I retreat back downstairs, gripping on to the railing like a lifeline.

I prepare a quick sandwich and wrap it up so that it doesn't go bad, and place it on the coffee table beside the couch with the correct amount of pills she'll need for the morning, and a glass of water. Tori will give her the midday dose when she comes over to check up on her, and I'll give her the nightly dose when I get home from work.

She lies on the couch, entangled in her sheets, eyes closed. Her blonde hair falls over her face, and I brush it away with my fingers, gently.

"I love you." I whisper, my voice cracking a little.

Pulling away, I head out of the living room and tie up my sneakers before leaving the house to catch my bus. The early morning bus timetable really sucks, as it only comes around once an hour. I mean, it's a small town, what takes it so long? So if I miss it the first time, I have to wait a whole other hour to catch the next one; meaning that I'd be late for work, and I don't think that Nita would be all to pleased with that.

Unsurprisingly, I am the first passenger on the bus, and it's way too quiet for my liking. The daytime buses always hold so much personality, unlike the silent journeys I have to endure each day and night.

I tuck my legs up and watch the buildings pass out of the slightly dirty window, ignoring the red hot pain striking my eye, gritting my teeth. My body is running on no sleep whatsoever, and I flinch at the thought of slaving away for Nita on a thirteen hour shift. I've never heard of such long hours, but I'm not going to voice my complaints anytime soon. I'm not suicidal.

I pull my hands back into my sleeves, warming them up as much as I can.

I've never cared much for the winter months; I much prefer summer when everything is bright and the days are warm. I used to love winter, though - not because of the climate, but because of the Christmas cheer that begins to spread during this time of year.

But it's not the same nowadays, not without a complete family to spend it with. Sure, I have mom, but she can't celebrate anything, anymore. The Christmas spirit doesn't quite impact me as much as it used to, and I'm not sure if that will ever change. Call me a scrooge or a grinch or whatever, but without family or anyone to spend it with, what's the point?

The bus ride goes by pretty quickly, and I thank the driver kindly before getting off. I pull up the thin hood of my jacket to ensure my ears don't freeze, and walk as quickly as I can to work, shivering.

Upon reaching the gate and being buzzed in by Harrison, I'm greeting by his concerned face at the door. "Tris, what happened to your face?" He asks, taking in my bruised eye.

"Oh, slipped on the ice. That's me, clumsy as ever." I say, lightly, making him smile.

"Ok, well make sure you put some ice on that when you get home." He advises me before disappearing back upstairs to continue whatever he had been doing before.

I peel my coat away from my body and hang it up in the closet, before heading for the kitchen, hoping to find Christina there. Unfortunately, I'm met with Nita, who is sat at the counter, sipping on a coffee.

"Good morning, Miss Pablos. You're up early, I see." I say as I shuffle my way further into the room. She turns to me, and her eyes roam my face, but doesn't comment on my injury. Instead she shrugs and takes another sip of her drink.

"Yes, I've got an important gathering with a couple of editors of a magazine I'm hoping to design for," she explains. "So I must leave bright and early.. I'm not sure if I will e back tonight though, I will probably find a suitable hotel and stay there."

"Yes, ma'am, do you need anything before you go?"

"Yes, would you bring my bag down for me? It's in the upstairs hall, I could not possibly haul the thing down in my heels." She answers, gesturing to her deep red stilettos.

"Of course, I'll do that right away." I say, backing out of the room.

As I ascend the staircase, I can't help but wonder where she is really going. I know that she was lying, all the signs were there; she was quick to answer me, and continuously twiddled with the ends of her hair, a habit that she appears to have acquired overnight. It all seems very suspicious, and I can't help the twist of hatred that fills my chest. She doesn't deserve Tobias, not in the slightest.

As I grab her carry-on from the hall, I realise that it is open as the contents spill out over the carpet. Cursing to myself, I scramble to pack it all back in, keeping it as neat as possible.

The last item I pick up is a skimpy lingerie item; and I have a feeling that it isn't for the magazine team, that probably don't exist. I have a good enough idea of what her overnight trip will consist of, and who she will be spending it with. I feel even more sick than I did before.

I place that in the bag too, and make sure that it is zipped-up. I take it downstairs where Nita is waiting at the front door, doing up the buttons on her expensive-looking coat, with fur lining the material.

She takes the bag from me and Harrison opens the door for her, and I get a glimpse of a car waiting on the driveway, a chauffeur beside the passenger side.

Taking my cue to leave, I walk back into the kitchen. Glancing at the refrigerator I notice my list of tasks for the day, which are pretty simple and easy, thank goodness.

My first one is collecting and then doing the dirty laundry. So I grab the laundry basket and go back upstairs to make my rounds, emptying all the hampers into my basket.

But as I exit the third spare room along the corridor, I suddenly become light headed and stumble, my vision blurring. I prepare for impact with the ground, but before I can fall very far, a pair of arms circle me.

They help me to stand upright, and when my eyes clear up, I see that the arms belonged to Tobias, who is watching me with evident distress.

"Tris, are you ok?" He asks, his hands still on my arms, making my skin buzz like a live wire. "What happened to your eye?"

"Oh, I s-slipped on some ice last night, no big deal. I'm fine, just a dizzy spell." I assure him, forcing a smile.

"Last night? That looks fresh. We need to get it cleaned up, or at least put some ice on it.." he points out, trailing off.

"No, I'm fine. I need to do this laundry -"

"Tris. Come with me and I'll get you some ice," he says, firmly. "The laundry can wait. Please, let me help you."

I want to protest, keep on telling him that I'm okay, but I don't have the energy to do so. Plus, if I don't sit down soon, I fear that I might pass out. So I reluctantly agree, and let him lead me downstairs, his hand resting on my back to support me.

In the kitchen, he guides me over to one of the bar stools and I sit down, watching as he goes over to the freezer to retrieve some ice. He returns with a few cubes in a resealable plastic bag, and slips it into my hand. I raise it to my eye, holding it against the traumatised area, effectively numbing it free of pain.

"Thank you," I say, quietly. "I'll be fine though, don't worry. I'm not sure what caused me to be so dizzy, but I haven't exactly felt well all morning."

"Perhaps it's going around, Christina called in sick today; some kind of virus has her bedridden, her boyfriend said she can't even keep water down." He tells me, taking a seat beside me.

"Poor Christina." I say, my lips twitching down. "But I'm probably just having a rough day, I rarely get sick so the virus thing isn't likely."

"Tris.. are you sure everything is ok? Excuse me if I'm overstepping my boundaries, but it appears to me like your rough day is more like a rough few weeks. You look exhausted all the time - and I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"I'm just not getting much sleep lately.. too many things on my mind, y'know," I shrug, not able to meet his covert eyes. "But you don't have to worry about me. I'll pull through. I always do."

"What kind of things are on your mind? I'm no expert, but I do understand how it feels to have to bottle stuff up all the time. Talking might help, if you want to, I mean..." He says, softly.

"It's.. oh, I don't know. I just try so hard to make things better, but it's never good enough. I have a lot of shit that I have to deal with, and sometimes it gets a little too overwhelming. But I just carry on, because that's what you have to do. I get stuff done, I keep myself busy. It's how I get by."

"Everyone's allowed to feel overwhelmed and fed up," Tobias notes. "You are right, you do have to push through.. but you're also allowed to ask for help along the way."

"I don't need help," I mutter, determinedly. "But someone else in my life does, and I have to make the decision to get her that help, no matter how much they would hate me for it. It's just a lot to deal with and it's hard to sleep sometimes, but I'll get it all sorted. I have to."

"Isn't there anyone else who could assist you in making that decision? Surely it's not just you..."

"I do it alone, and I have done for a while now. When I told you that the world demanded for me to grow up quickly, I wasn't kidding." I respond.

I've put quite a bit out there, and it feels good to get it off my chest. I want to tell him everything, because for some unknown reason, he has gained my trust, and I know that he won't betray that. I want to divulge everything with him, but I don't have the words nor the confidence.

So there's only thing I can do - _show_ him.

"Will you come with me?" I ask, finally looking him in the eye.

Confusion flashes across his face. "Where?"

"Do you trust me?" I ask, needing the confirmation before I go along with this crazy plan.

"Yes, I do." He tells me with confidence, unwavering.

"Then just trust me, and follow me. I need to show you a few things."

I ditch the ice and tell Tobias to go get a jacket, the most casual one he owns - I don't want him walking around my neighbourhood in some posh-looking coat, that would instantly put a target on his back. The people in my part of town don't exactly appreciate the community Tobias and Nita happen to be a part of, and wouldn't roll out a red carpet for him.

Thankfully, he appears with a navy hooded sweatshirt, and slips that over his head. I grab my own jacket, and we leave out of the front door, with no one being made aware of our departure. It's still cold outside, but I'm too pumped full of adrenaline to care.

I can't believe that I'm doing this, I can't believe I'm about to show him what my life is really like. I never would've imagined myself doing this, but like he said, maybe telling someone about it all will take some sort of weight off my shoulders.

We arrive at the bus stop in record times, and I am pleased to see that there's only a five minute wait until the next bus is due.

"We're getting the bus?" He asks, peering at the timetable. "I've never done that before."

I don't say anything, I just purse my lips together tightly, attempting to talk myself out of this, unsuccessfully.

The bus arrives a few minutes early, and I pay the driver fare for the both of us with the spare change dwelling in the pocket of my coat.

We take a seat towards the back, him claiming the window seat. There are more people now than what there were this morning, and I find comfort in the buzz of absent minded chatter. I play with the sleeves of my jacket, nibbling on my bottom lip.

I don't know what makes me more anxious - the fact that I'm about to show him everything about my life, or the feeling that attacks my stomach when he looks at me. I know I shouldn't be experiencing such things around him; the prospect of me liking him is out of the question, and more importantly, he is _engaged_.

I push those unacceptable thoughts aside, and focus on where we are and where we need to get off. Beside me, Tobias seems entrapped by his surroundings, staring at everything like he's never been outside before.

"Have you not been in this part of town before?" I ask him, curiously.

"Truthfully, I've never been anywhere in this town outside of my neighbourhood. I've never had the need to." He replies, sheepishly.

Before I can speak to that, our stop approaches and I stand up, causing Tobias to instantly follow in pursuit. Once we have stepped off the bus, I take a sharp intake of fresh air, preparing myself for what is to come.

"It's this way." I tell him, my voice resoundingly quiet as the words leave my mouth.

He walks alongside me as I lead him up the gravel pathway, my eyes stilling on the black steel gate up ahead. The church tower looms above us, like a sinister set of eyes watching our every move. I push open the gate, and we slip through.

I expect him to question me, to refuse to follow me unless I tell him what is going on, but he just stays at my side without protest, his eyes scanning the church and the tombstones with an odd kind of resentment.

We reach the grave, and I stand still, my hands shoved into my pockets, staring it down. Tobias takes his time reading the words on the stone, his muscles tightening as it dawns on him.

"Tris.. I'm so sorry, I had no idea.." He murmurs.

"You couldn't have known," I say, my voice vacant of emotion. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to pity me, I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime. But with everything you've told me, I felt like I should tell you something about me too. And this is a big part of what makes me the woman I am today."

"If you don't mind me asking - feel free to put me back in line - how did he pass?" He inquires, respectfully.

"He was on the way back from a business trip in the city, and got in a crash on the freeway. By the time he was delivered to a hospital, it was too late. That was when I was part way through my senior year. This is the thing that changed everything." I explain, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You said you wanted to show me a few things... what else does that entail exactly?" He asks, glancing at me with a sense of apprehension.

"I have one more thing that I want you to see. Then maybe you'll understand everything going on with me." I answer, turning away from my father's grave, tugging on his sleeve, encouraging him to follow me.

"I was here last night," I tell him. "I couldn't sleep so I came here and sat here all night. I left in the morning, but tripped on my way out - that's what happened to my eye and the cut on my cheek."

"I have trouble sleeping too sometimes. Too many bad things. Nita thinks it's stupid, a grown man having nightmares or whatever, which it kind of is." He admits, rubbing the back of his neck, the tips of his ears slightly red.

"It's not stupid," I assure him, curious as to what could haunt his slumbers. "I get them too. Not as often as I did in the first few months after he passed, but I still wake up a few nights a week. It sucks, but it's not stupid."

The walk back to my place is in silence; and I spend that time trying to figure out what he's thinking. Like I've said, I don't want pity or sympathy. I want to be treated just as I would if my father was alive. But usually that's too much to ask of a person. I just hope that Tobias is different.

As we reach my neighbour hood, my anxiety levels skyrocket, and my fingers shake from where they are hidden away in my jacket pockets.

We pass a gang of guys around my age on our way, and Tobias tenses beside me, ready to react quickly if anything were to occur. But I recognise them as they usually hang around here, so I used to bump into them often when I would travel to and from the diner. They give me a nod in greeting, which I return with a small smile.

Approaching the front door of my house, I have to force myself to keep moving my feet, because every single fibre of my being is screaming at me to run away, to abandon this whole idea. But I've brought him all the way over here, it'd be cruel to just leave him hanging like that. So I take out my key and unlock the door, opening it up. Tobias goes in first, and I follow, closing it behind us.

The house is silent, and there is dust on every single piece of furniture; keeping up with the cleaning hasn't been at the top of my priorities lately.

The house looks abandoned, like nobody even lives here. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, embarrassed. He lives in the lap of luxury - silver doorhandles, a pool in the backyard, balconies, chandeliers. He must be disgusted by the state of my own home, and who could blame him?

"I know it's kind of a dump, but it's all I got." I say, scuffing the floorboards with the toe of my sneaker.

"It's not a dump," he says, and by the look in his eye, he means it. "It's not a dump at all. But.. why are we here?"

"I want you to see what my dad's death did to us, to my family. To my mom." I explain as we shuffle our way further down the hallway, and I stop at the closed door to the living room. _There's no turning back now_ , I think as I push open the door, exposing it to his eyes.

He steps inside, and instantly looks to the couch where mom lies, wrapped in a dozen blankets, staring into space. I go in behind him, clasping my hands in front of me, anxiously awaiting his reaction.

"Mrs Prior?" He asks, warily. She doesn't even move; it's like someone has pushed a button that has frozen her, like she's stuck in time, unable to escape.

Suddenly, the reality of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. Why have I brought him here? He isn't my friend, even though he insists that he wants to be. If Nita ever found out about this.. I'd be dead meat. But I can't take my actions back now, so I have to deal with the consequences.

I slip past Tobias and kneel down in front of her face, so she has to look at me. "Mom, we have a guest. I brought someone to meet you." I tell her, and as expected, get no kind of response. She doesn't even move her eyes.

"Ok, well I have to head back to work soon, but I'll see you tonight." I say, kissing her forehead quickly before rising to my feet.

I leave the room, and once Tobias has successfully joined me, I shut the door.

"W-what's wrong with her?" He asks as we make towards the front door.

"A doctor diagnosed her with clinical depression a while back, but nobody did anything about it - just gave her some meds that don't work. I've looked after her ever since dad passed, which meant I had to drop out of school." I explain, my throat dry.

When we are outside and I have locked the door, Tobias turns to me, his eyes bearing an unfamiliar glint. "Now it's my turn to show you something." He says, looking as nervous as I feel.

As much as my gut tells me to stop this before it goes any further, my head nods on its own accord, agreeing to his proposal.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **New chapter! A lot of you guys are getting more and more desperate for our protagonists to finally start to share some moments, so I thought that their friendship could start to become closer as they open up about their lives to one another.**

 **Next chapter will be in Tobias' POV, and he will be showing Tris more about his life, which will also lead to y'all finding out what really happened to him as a kid.**

 **Thank you for your support, it means so much and I love reading all of your reviews. Keep leaving me feedback, and feel free to PM me if you have any questions!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	12. Chapter 12

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 12 {Tobias' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

"Now it's my turn to show you something." I say, and Tris nods along in agreement, but a wary kind of look mists over her sharp yet wide eyes.

"Well, I can't exactly show you out in public.. but I can tell you about it." I add, rubbing my hand over the back of my neck. "Do you know any places that we could just go and talk?"

"Actually, I have the perfect place." She confirms, looking up at me with a small smirk.

Once again, I put my trust in her, and do not inquire about what she has in mind. I just follow her, and believe that she'll lead me in the right direction.

I'm still processing everything that she has shown me, and I understand how difficult it must have been for her to do that. It's not hard to see that she has been thrown into a real shitty situation, and it's put everything in a better perspective for me. She's always seemed so secretive, so introverted, and now I realise why she composes herself in that way. To stay protected.

She walks alongside me with steady strides, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, eyes set dead ahead of us. Despite her evident exhaustion, she still manages to practically glow with charm and beauty.

My feelings towards Tris have somewhat.. changed in these past few hours. Seeing her life behind closed door, witnessing the hardships she faces every single day, has definitely opened my eyes.

There's just something about her. Like every time we're together I can't catch my breath.

I curse myself for having those kind of feelings towards this young woman, but it's like my head can't seem to talk my heart out of what it's trying to tell me. But whatever this turns out to be is purely innocent, just two messed-up people sharing their troubled pasts.

What Nita is doing to our relationship is betrayal. It's wrong. I can understand why she would choose Eric - he lives in the same thoughtless world as she does. I don't have to know him well to be able to understand his personality type, and I can safely say that he is not the kind of person I would like to associate myself with.

I'm not sure when or if I should confront her with what she's done, and my knowledge of the situation. At this point, I am not concerned with the aftermath of our potential break-up.

Admittedly, I have lost myself these past few years, but I know that I will not allow myself to be walked all over, and I will stand up for myself when such situations arise. I may be able to hold my tongue at the worst of times, but Nita's unfaithfulness will not pass me by so easily.

After a good fifteen minute walk, we reach our supposed destination - a diner of sorts, a little battered-up on the exterior, but it looks kind of welcoming.

"Welcome to my place," Tris says, pausing outside the door to look at it proudly. "This is what has really helped me through the tough years; remember I told you about the diner I worked at? Where I would make my beignets? This is it."

She pushes open the door with her hand and we step inside, warmth instantly encircling me, contrasting from the bitter cold outside.

The walls are painted a block white, and the floor beneath my feet are checkered black and white tile. At the opposite end of the room is a glossy white counter, with neon red stools pulled up against it. There's a vintage jukebox in one corner, and there are two rows of red-topped booths alongside the walls. There are a handful of circular tables too, all laden with brightly coloured menus.

Fifties-sounding music drifts around the diner, and my eyes scan over the fair number of customers taking over the seating. There is a slender girl - who looks only a year or two younger than Tris - with an apron tied around her waist and bright red hair, who is serving a table nearby.

"That's Echo. My replacement. She's in her senior year of high school, the same age as I was when I started here." Tris tells me, rubbing her hands together in attempt to warm them up.

I watch as a middle-aged woman appears from the back, and her face breaks out into a wide smile when she spots Tris. She edges around the long counter top, and strides towards us. She pulls her into a quick embrace, and then releases her to flash yet another bright smile.

She has raven black hair that's been pulled back into a ponytail, and her eyes are dark and narrow, but hold a warmth that's undeniable. A dusting of flour claims her cheek.

"What a lovely surprise, what are you doing here?" She asks, and then turns to me with an undisguised curiosity. "And who is this young man?"

"I'm Tobias Eaton, nice to meet you ma'am." I say as kindly as I can, extending my hand for her to shake.

"The pleasure is mine, I'm sure," she responds, freeing my hand after a quick shake. "I'm Tori, welcome to my diner. What can I get for you two?"

"Two Coke floats please," Tris answers on behalf of us both, looking to me for approval, and I just nod. "D'you mind if we sit down for a while?"

"Of course not. I'll get Echo to bring over your floats once I've made them up. You kids take a seat wherever you fancy." Tori tells us before retreating back to the counter, where she pulls out two large glasses.

I follow Tris to the booth closest to the back of the room, where there aren't a lot of people lingering; there is enough privacy to have a conversation without any disturbances.

"It's nice here," I note, glancing around again, taking in the creative interior. "And Tori seems friendly. I bet it was a lot of fun working here."

"It was, most of the time. But work is work, and I was just glad to make the cash. But in the end I needed more than Tori could provide me with, which is why I ended up applying for the maid position." She shrugs, peeling her jacket away from her shoulders and putting it in the space beside her.

Not ten seconds later, the waitress - Echo, I think her name is - comes over with our drinks, but leaves quickly after giving us each a small smile.

"So, you wanted to tell me some stuff?" She prompts, taking a sip from her float through the plastic straw.

"Er, yeah," I say, clearing my throat as I scratch the back of my neck. "It's kind of a long story, so feel free to stop me if I start babbling or you get bored-"

"It's okay, Tobias. I've got time." She assures me with a smile, one that seems so genuine and comforting that I completely let go of all my nerves.

"I didn't have the best childhood in the world," I begin, sighing. "I grew up watching my mother get hit by my father. He would call her horrible names, blow up for no reason, yell at her for every little thing she did wrong. And then when I turned eight, he decided that it wasn't enough to just abuse my mother; I became his next punchbag. He did that for about a year and a half, I'd say. It was relentless. Mom and I would huddle in the kitchen, preparing ourselves for what would surely occur when he returned home from work. And then one day, he never came home, and we received a call from the police department, informing us that he'd been arrested on the grounds of first-degree murder."

I keep my eyes on my hands, which are clasped around my glass so tightly that my knuckles turn white. I hate looking back on these dark days of my life, and I haven't spoken the words to anyone for a long time.

Nita doesn't even know what happened to me as a kid, and believed me when I told her that I was in a terrible car accident one day, which is my excuse for the scars that cover the entirety of my back - a constant reminder of what happened, something that I'll never be able to leave behind me.

The scars go everywhere with me, and so does he. Even though he's behind bars, I still jump when there's a bump in the night, and avoid small spaces as much as possible.

"The trial lasted a couple weeks, as witnesses and the victims family took the stand. My father - Marcus - pleaded guilty right off the bat, untroubled by the consequences," I continue, my teeth gritted together. "I was only told what he actually did when I turned fifteen; after work, he had gone to the bar for a drink before returning home, and on his way back to the car, stumbled across a sixteen-year-old girl. He raped and killed her by smashing a rock against her head behind that bar, then went back in for another vodka straight afterwards. Luckily, one of the employees went to take the garbage out and found the girl, and they had caught the bastard on CCTV cameras. He didn't even make it out the bar before the police had swarmed the place."

"He went to prison, I presume?" Tris asks, but I don't look up at her, only nod stiffly. I can't face her pitying looks just yet. I want to get the whole story out first.

"He was sentenced to life, with no chance of parole. Obviously, things didn't get better now that he'd just disappeared from our lives. Mom really went off the rails, she would take drugs and drink herself to oblivion. She would have random guys over to hook up with her, while I was trying to sleep next door. So I sought out help with my friends mom - she was at the dinner party, and the friend was who I was sat next to that evening too; Zeke Pedrad. Anyway, she called social services and they got her help in Rehab, where she spent a couple months. I stayed with the Pedrad's during those months, and we came up with a lie to tell the rest of our community who were curious about her whereabouts. They bought it, obviously, and by the time she returned, she was almost back to her usual self. But the new found freedom, a life without Marcus, gave her the wrong kind of opportunity - she became selfish and small-minded, just like all the others. My mother had left me, and I'd never felt more alone." I vent, running a hand through my hair, frustrated. I'm angry at her and at Marcus and at myself.

Finished, I take a long sip from my ice cold drink, attempting to calm myself. I know that she's going to look at me differently now. And I can hardly blame her for that. How is she supposed to react? I wouldn't exactly know what to do if I was suddenly told all of that. I'd turn on my heels and run away, most likely.

"Tobias." she says, gently, causing me to lift my head with heistation, forcing my eyes to still on hers. I'm surprised to see not sympathy dwelling in those grey orbs, but admiration. I have no idea what that means; there's not much in that story that is worth admiring, that much is obvious.

"You're so strong," she whispers. "I don't know how you're even.. I... I don't even know what to say. You have done so well, with everything that's happened to you. You didn't deserve that. Any of it. Life is really shitty in that way."

"I wouldn't exactly say that," I chuckle, but it bears no humour. "But seriously, I've moved past it. Well, kind of. I still get nightmares, like I said, of him somehow reaching me. But it's all bullshit, the propspect is impossible almost, but it frightens me all the same. But it felt good.. talking about it like that, getting everything out in the open."

"How is everything with the Nita situation?" She asks, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, seemingly trying to change the subject; perhaps she became aware of my discomfort. I appreciate her efforts.

"I don't know, I still haven't spoken to her about the whole thing. But a part of me is convinced that it's all a misunderstanding, but that's complete bullshit," I spit, rolling my eyes. "She seems to think that I have no kind of intellect, or at least no sorts of common sense. I just feel like such an idiot. I mean, how long has it been going for? Weeks? Months?"

"I can't pretend that I know what you are going through - and feel free to shut me up at anytime - but maybe you should talk to her about it? Reasonably, I mean. Maybe you could work things out?"

"Yeah right," I scoff, almost laughing at the idea. "Can you honestly imagine Nita having a reasonable conversation like that? She'd just blow up and scream at me, telling me that I'd made the whole thing up, and that I have no proof."

"She might just surprise you," Tris shrugs, neutrally. "Sometimes, leaving things to sit and build up only makes the final storm that much worse. There's no way I'm going to tell you what to do - not that you would listen to me - when it comes to your relationship. But just think about it rationally, take a leap of faith. Otherwise you'll just be sat wondering, torturing yourself with unanswered questions."

"Hey, I would listen to anything you have to say. Don't think that I wouldn't," I protest, honestly. "I know you are dead set against us having any kind of friendship, but this must be a sign of something, right? You need a friend, Tris, because by the looks of it, you seem so lonely. What's so bad about us becoming friends? It's hardly a marriage proposal."

"Nita would be pissed, and you can now realise how desperately I need my job, and befriending an employer doesn't seem like a good idea -"

"Not this garbage about being professional again -"

"I wasn't finished," she snaps, interrupting me. "I was _going_ to say that I don't care anymore. We're just friends, right? It's not a crime, nor is it something that anyone could have a justified reason to be upset over. Therefore, it doesn't even matter."

I smile across at her. "No, it doesn't matter. Friendship is often found in the most unexpected places, maybe this is just one of those circumstances. But whatever happens.. well, I cherish this odd thing we have going. I feel like I can tell you stuff that I would never tell anyone else, not even Zeke. So I am truly glad that you have decided to just let go."

"I'm no good with those kind of things.. with any relationships, really," she shrugs. "Give it time, I'm sure that I'll mess up at some point."

"Well, a person who's never made a mistake has never made anything at all." I counter, smirking. "But seriously, don't worry on it too much. Look at it this way - you now have someone to talk about your problems with, no matter how big or small. I'll be there to listen, and I hope you would do the same for me. And I would like to think that you'd be honest too."

"Obviously." She replies, and then bites down on her lip, like she's holding something back.

"Tris? What is the matter? Have I said something to upset you..."

"No!" She assures me, hastily. "No, of course you haven't. It's just.. you said that friends have to be honest with each other, right?"

"Well, yeah, that's the thing friendship is built on. It goes hand in hand with the trust thing. Why do you ask? Is there something you have lied about?" I ask, getting more agitated as the seconds pass by me.

"I don't lie," she says coolly, fixing her eyes on mine. "But there is something I haven't told you, and I figure you should be made aware of the situation. I feel awful for telling you - knowing that it is not my duty to - but I'd feel even worse not telling you what I found."

"What you found?" I question, my eyebrows drawing together in question. "Tris. Just tell me."

"I was getting Nita's bag this morning, but when I picked it up the top fell open and all her stuff fell on the floor. I packed it all back in but the last thing, er, I found a..."

"I already know what you are going to say," I say, relieving her of her misery. "I saw it too. She was hardly discreet about it."

"Why'd you think that is? I mean, I'd imagine her to be extra cautious of stuff like that. It's like she wanted you to find it." She wonders aloud, taking a sip of her drink with a thoughtful look crossing her features.

"Maybe she does," I say, frowning. "Perhaps she wants me to confront her, wants me to create drama over the whole thing."

I mull over this for a minute, thinking the whole thing through; could she really want our engagement to end as much as I do? If so, how am I supposed to approach the situation?

I'd like to think that I'm a reasonable kind of guy, and the sensible part of me is telling me to go with what Tris suggested; to just sit down and have an adult conversation, talk about things evenly and calmly. But there is also the darker part of myself that is almost shouting at me to go all supernova on her. And right now, the angrier part of me is winning the internal argument.

"I'm so tired of being taken for a granted, treated like an idiot," I mutter. "I don't think I can take it much longer - sleeping in the same bed with such a deceiver. I don't care what anyone will think of me, I just need some clarity. And there's only one way I will get that."

"Tobias?" She asks, somewhat curious as I take my cellphone out from my jacket pocket.

Googling the nearest taxi cab place, I dial the number into my keypad and hold it up to my ear as it rings. After booking a cab to pick us up here in five minutes, I hang up and look back at Tris as I pocket my phone once more.

"Where are we going? Why are you calling a cab?" She wants to know, her eyes narrowed.

"I'm going to end this, once and for all. She will not treat me like such a moron and expect to get away with it. I will not be walked over any more than I already have been."

"What are you talking about? Do you know how crazy you sound right now!" She hisses, pushing her empty glass to the side.

"We're going to find Nita at the hotel, and we are going to catch her in the act. I'm tired of sitting around and waiting for her to come home, knowing full well that I'd be waiting for her there." I tell her, unfazed her words.

"Okay, now I _know_ that you are crazy," she snaps, staring at me in disbelief. "That is not the way to go about it! What about the mature adult conversation?"

I stand up and zip my jacket up, putting a ten dollar bill down on the table to cover our drinks. "Fine. Don't come with me then. Go back to your job and clean up after the woman who makes you walk on egg shells whenever she's around. Go slave away for a woman who treats you like you're nothing. But I'm going, and you cannot stop me."

I wait for her reaction, and I half expect for her to stand up and give in, choosing to come with me here and now. Instead she stares up at me with a fierce intensity, and I realise that she won't back down. I can't hold her to that - she needs her job, and if Nita caught her running around with me, she'd go nuts, no doubt about it.

But as I turn on my heels and walk away, a piece of me aches to go back and sheds a tear at the fact that I'm going alone now. But I keep a straight face, playing it off. I don't need anyone to help me anyway. This is my issue, and one that I need to resolve.

As I huddle at the edge of the sidewalk outside the diner, waiting for my cab, I hear footsteps approaching from behind. Then Tris is at my side, her eyes looking straight ahead, her face free of expression. But when she notices me watching her, the corner of her mouth lifts up slightly.

"Friends stick together right?" She says, shrugging.

"Right." I agree, suppressing a grin, but allow a pleased smile to stretch my lips.

The cab pulls up not a minute later, and we climb in the back, and I tell the driver to just get us into the city and then I'll give him more directions.

"So, how are you going to find her? She could've lied about the hotel she's staying at, if she's even staying at a hotel." She asks, curiosity getting the better of her, it would seem.

"I bought her the cellphone she has now - which means on the 'Track Your Cell' app, I'll be able to see her location." I respond, tapping away at my cellphone.

"You have a tracker on her? Geez, talk about over protective."

"It's not like that," I insist, rolling my eyes. "I tried deactivating the account from my ID, but it just will not work. I've never used it until now, if that's what you're thinking. I'm not that kind of guy."

Accessing her cell data is easy, the app is pretty simple anyway, and I have to make a few adjustments to find the initial location, but I eventually get what I need.

"Hey," I say to the driver, just as we reach the outskirts of the city. "Can you take us down to the Dauntless Hotel down on ninety fifth?"

"Dauntless Hotel?" Tris questions, eyes wide, impressed. "I've heard of that place; one of my old teachers stayed there and gave us a detailed description of one of the ensuites - not one of the finest History classes of my life - but it's mighty expensive. He must be totally rolling in it."

"Nita's one lucky girl." I mutter, bitterly.

"I'm sorry," she groans, covering her face with her hand. "Ignore me, I'll just sit over here with my foot in my mouth."

"Don't apologise. You're right - he is well off. He's only my age and already owns a multi-million dollar company. I can't exactly blame Nita for choosing him." I shrug, but if I'm being honest, the whole cheating thing really sucks. Sure, I am not exactly heart broken about Nita wanting something else, but it's a huge blow to my confidence. Is there something wrong with me? Am I not good enough for her?

"Don't put yourself down," Tris tells me. "He might own some large company or whatever, but from what I witnessed at that dinner, he is nothing but an egotistical asshole. You have integrity. And I think you'll find that personality adds up to a whole lot more than money."

I don't even know how to respond to that, so I just flash her a watery smile in thanks. I'm glad she decided to tag along - I need her support, more than she realises. More than _I_ realise.

It takes a while to push through the busy city traffic, but eventually the cab pulls up against the sidewalk, opposite the Dauntless Hotel. We pile out and I thrust the money into the drivers hand, telling him to keep the change.

"I'm paying you back at some point." Tris says as the cab drives off.

"No need, it's on me. It was me who dragged you here, so it's me who should pay for the ride."

"You didn't drag me. I came willingly." She reminds me.

Rolling my eyes at her with a fondness, I turn to look at the hotel across the street. It is impressive, sticking out like a sore thumb among the stone buildings - the black marble structure practically slaps you around the face as look at it.

"You ready for this?" Tris asks. "It's not too late to go back, leave the whole thing behind you."

"I'm ready," I say, my voice firm. "There's no turning back now."

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Yay another chapter y'all! I know you guys were anxious to see more of Tobias' POV, so here we are! I am also aware of the heavy amount of dialogue in this chapter, but I'm working on building up their friendship and needed the interactions to do so.**

 **Leave me a review and let me know what you thought, and what do you think will happen next? Will Tobias chicken out or will he go all angry on her and Eric's sorry asses?**

 **\- GuiltyMind :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 13 {Tobias' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

"So, genius, where do we go from here exactly?" Tris asks, crossing her arms.

"First we have to find out what hotel room they are staying in, we'll figure the rest out when we get to it." I answer, evenly. I know she disapproves of this plan, and the fact that she is still here both confuses and excites me - why didn't she just let me go alone?

"Well I hope that you have an idea of how you are going to get ahold of that information, because I haven't the slightest -"

"I have somewhat of a plan forming in my head," I interrupt, staring up at the black marble hotel. "But I'm going to need your help. It could either lead to achieving our goal, or the end of the world."

"The predicted success rate?" She enquires.

"I would say a solid 48%." I reply, amusement clinging to my words.

"Hmm, that's good enough for me. Now let's get this show on the road, it's freezing out here."

Taking a deep breath, we begin to weave our way across the street, dodging in and out of traffic, trying not to get hit.

The entrance door is a revolving-styled one, so we step into the small compartment as it spins us around. Stepping into the lobby, I look around in undeniable awe; the dark grey flooring beneath our feet is polished up like a shiny new penny, and the interior designing is flawless.

Suddenly conscious of my appearance, I take off my zip-up hoodie and abandon it on one of the chairs nearby, now appearing a little more suited to this level of luxury. However, Tris stands next to me in a cute maid outfit and a black jacket, her slightly scuffed sneakers marking the floors, looking rather anxious.

"Give me your jacket." I say, tugging at her sleeve.

She scowls at me, questionably. "Why? What if it gets lost? You might have a dozen spare ones, but this is all I got."

"Stop worrying, does this seem like the type of place that would play host to thiefs? Come on, I'll put it with mine," I insist. "The maid apparel will give us an advantage here. But we have to work with it efficiently."

"If this goes missing or gets damaged at all, you'll be forking out for a new one. I'll sue." She grumbles, slipping out of the garment and shoving it at me.

"I'm terrified." I shoot back, rolling my eyes as I put it alongside mine, hidden by one of the decorative throw pillows.

"Sorry," she says in a small voice. "I'm just.. I get nervous in places like these. I don't fit in, y'know? I shouldn't snap at you, though. We need to stick together and focus on finding that room number."

"I understand, it can be quite intimidating, even for me," I assure her, smiling in attempt to ease her tension. "Now, for the game plan."

"Do I even want to know?" She questions, nibbling on her thumbnail.

"They aren't going to give me the room number; I can only assume that it'd be booked under Coulter - Eric's surname - and they would want ID proof, which we don't have," I begin to explain. "So, I need to get into the computer and find out for myself; and for that to happen, I'd need a distraction. And that's when you come in. I want you to divert the receptionist, and cause some kind of chaos among the lobby. That would give me the perfect opportunity to get on to the system when nobody is paying attention. I'll take care of finding the right data, but it is your job to buy me the time I need."

"How am I supposed to do that?" She hisses, pulling me behind a potted plant as a few guests filter in from the elevator.

"Well, I haven't exactly thought that far," I admit, sheepishly. "I was actually hoping that you would be able to contribute an idea for that part. Just try and devise a kind of stimulus to provoke chaos. Try and be as convincing as possible when it comes to the execution - we could get in a significant amount of trouble for this if we mess up."

Moments after I finish speaking, and she appears to be deep in thought, her eyes light up and a smirk tugs at her mouth. "Don't worry about it," she declares in a hushed whisper. "I've got the perfect idea. I'll buy you as much time as I can, but you need to move fast."

Before I can speak to that, she moves away from the potted plant and stands up on one of the soft-looking couches.

I watch as she points down at the floor, and opens her mouth to let out a head-splitting scream, catching the attention of every person in the suddenly crowded lobby. "RAT!" She cries, still jabbing her finger towards the floor. "I SAW A RAT!"

I can't help but smile as pandemonium rips across the room, and everyone is suddenly yelling and running around like headless chickens. Tris makes eye contact with me briefly, and gives me a prompting nod.

Slipping into the crowd of panicking guests, I push my way through to the front desk, where I am pleased to find no receptionists in sight. I get behind the front desk and duck slightly, so that I am not visible to anybody else.

Thankfully, the computer is logged in to the system, so I busy myself with frantically clicking on different series of folders, striving to find the guest information. Eventually, I unearth the list of guests and their general information - the number of people accompanying them, checking in and out dates, and most importantly, room numbers.

As I scroll down the list, Tris is busy keeping everyone in a frenzy, pretending to see the 'rat' all around the room, causing people to run in multiple directions. It's like rush hour down in the subway, times a hundred.

I've pinpointed the room under Coulter in no time at all - number 106, floor five. I make sure to cover up my tracks, deleting all the past history, and then sneak out from behind the desk, joining the mob of people.

I manage to find Tris among the crowd, and she wraps her hand around my forearm, nodding towards the emergency staircase alongside the row of elevators. She hangs on to me as we push through the bodies populating the lobby. As I shove open the door to the staircase, she releases my arm and leans against the nearest wall, catching her breath.

"You got it?" She asks, running a hand through her slightly tangled hair.

"Yeah, thanks to you," I say, grinning a little. "I had a good enough idea of the mass mayhem that you could have created, but that was something else."

"We can celebrate that success later, right now we need to focus on finding that room." She reminds me, earnestly.

A heavy weight settles on my chest, and nerves pulse through my veins, but I refuse to back down - we did not just go through all of that just for me to become a victim to cowardice. No, I am doing this. I just cannot keep pretending that nothing is wrong, and that I am oblivious to her cheating.

"Floor five." I inform her, and begin to climb the first flight of steps with Tris hot on my heels.

As we ascend flight after flight, I continue to mentally prepare myself for what is about to go down, it will not be good, no matter what the circumstances. I know that I must stay calm for the most part; I am sure that Nita would enjoy having two men argue over her, and I will not provide her with that satisfaction. She can't win all the time.

When we reach the fifth floor, we linger next to the door, hesitant to even leave the staircase.

"I'm going to just stay here while you deal with it all," Tris speaks up after a moment of silence. "Me being there would just cause a lot more conflict, and this is about you."

"That is a practical idea, I want you to get involved as little as possible. And you're right, Nita wouldn't take to your presence very well. Plus, I do not want to put your job position in jeprody." I agree, tightening my grip on the door handle.

"You can do this, Tobias," she assures me, smiling softly. "Try to keep your head in check, don't lose your cool. And please, don't hit the guy."

"I know you think that I should sit down and talk about it sensibly - try to save the relationship - but my heart has not belonged to Nita in a long time.. if we do end up breaking things off, which is likely, promise me that you won't be disappointed in me?" I say, my voice quiet. "Your... well, your opinion means a lot to me, Tris."

"You need to do what is best for you, and if your heart isn't in the relationship anymore, then you need to deal with that. Don't feel like you are disappointing me - I'm not telling you what to do, I can only be here for you when you need it. That's what friends do, right?"

With only a slight heistation, I release the door handle and pull Tris against my chest, wrapping my arms around her small yet strong frame. She tenses for a second or two, but then relaxes against me, accepting my advance.

Holding Nita never felt like this; it didn't make my heart race and my palms sweat, in fact it just made me feel uncomfortable, especially with her insistent need to have physical contact. But having Tris this close to me is a new feeling, a good feeling. And when I pull away, it's with a great amount of reluctance.

"I'll see you soon." I say, reaching for the door once more.

"I'll be waiting." She reassures me.

Forcing myself to pull open the door, I step into the sleek-looking hallway, wiping my palms on my pants. I follow the door numbers, slowly making my way down the hall, until I stop in front of number 106, and my eyes still on the ' _do not disturb_ ' sign that is fastened to the door handle.

Ignoring it completely, I muster up the courage to knock, steadily and loudly. A frustrated grumble comes from the other side, almost incoherently telling me to "get lost".

I knock again, not willing to give in. I'll break this door down if I have to. I am having this out with them both now, no matter what.

I hear shuffling on the other side of the door, and the door swings open, revealing a barely-clothed Eric with a thunderous expression. When he realises who is stood opposite him, his hard mask slips, and his lip curls.

Before he has the chance to push the door all the way closed, I shove my way inside the hotel room, using my shoulder to get the better of Eric. The first thing I see is the big king-sized bed, where my fiancé is curled up in a white robe, sipping on a glass of champagne. However, when her eyes settle on me, the stemware falls from her hand and spills all over the crisp white sheets.

"Tobias!" She exclaims, climbing out of the bed, her eyes wide with terror. "Tobias, what the hell are you doing here? H-how did you find me?"

"You should really be more careful sneaking around with other men, Nita," I spit, crossing my arms over my chest. "I saw you kiss him with my very own eyes, so how could I conclude that this overnight trip was innocent? You may choose to believe that I have no sense of awareness, but apparently, that does not appear to be the case."

"What did you expect?" She explodes, angrily gesturing with her hands as she speaks. "I am a woman with needs, Tobias, and you haven't touched me in _weeks_! Eric can give me what I need. He can give me what you obviously could not."

"Don't give me that shit! Why the fuck would I want to lay a hand on you knowing that he's been there first? We are supposed to be engaged, Nita. You must remember that, as you seem determined on reminding me every five minutes! Is this how relationships work? I stay at home and wait for you to return, knowing that you've been screwing other guys behind my back? Do you honestly view that as a healthy relationship?"

"I am the best thing that ever happened to you." Nita scoffs. "Do not try and pretend that you have the upper hand here, you never have. I mean, I have two men practically showering me with affection. You have one woman, who was never really faithful in the first place."

"You could have just been honest with me," I argue back, but my voice is flat. "If you were unhappy, why didn't you just say? I would have listened, I would have talked to you about it! But instead you went behind my back and cheated?"

"Don't pretend like you are so innocent in this situation, Tobias! I see the way you look at our new maid, with her pretty eyes and blonde hair. You look at her the way I used to wish you would look at me. You cannot blame me for trying to find something better, something that would offer me more than you could."

"Look, I think you should just leave." Eric cuts in, and I barely give him a second glance, waving off his words without a care.

"Her name is Tris," I say through gritted teeth. "And I don't look at her in any way. Like you said, she's our maid. You are just jealous. I knew you could be a bitch, but I never imagined you would stoop this low."

"I don't care what her name is! I see the way you look at her, don't kid yourself. We are on the same page, whether you care to admit that or not. The only difference is that I had the courage to act on my feelings." She sneers.

"I am _not_ a cheater, and we are certainly not alike, I can assure you that," I shoot back, fighting to stay moderately in-control. "I am no cheater. I could never betray a person like that, something you clearly have no problem with doing."

"Look me in the eye and tell me that you love me." She deadpans.

I have to remain the honest one in this situation, so I must tell her the truth. And besides, it is clear that she no longer bears the tender feelings we once used to have for one another. So in that sense, we are on the same page.

Looking at her dead in the eye, I say, "No."

"So why are you so enraged about all of this? You don't love me. Surely it should be a weight from your shoulders. You finally have the opportunity to be rid of me."

"Because I thought that we could make it work somehow," I huff, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I may not love you like I used to, but a part of me still cares about you. I didn't want to hurt you, but I now realise that I should have been brave enough to leave you a long time ago."

"What are you saying?" She asks, coldly. "You are breaking up with me?"

"I can't be with someone untrustworthy, someone unfaithful. You would feel the same if the roles were reversed." I explain.

"No!" She screeches. "What are you going to do, just walk out on me? We can try to get that spark back, we can make it work."

"It's too late. It is over, Nita. I am tired of you putting me down and making me feel like I'm not good enough. I can't spend my life revolving around you."

"Nita, why are you saying these things?" Eric wants to know, his voice furious. "You told me that if he ever found out, you would leave him for me. You promised. Why now have you decided differently."

"It appears that Nita has been doing a lot of lying lately." I add, rolling my eyes.

"I _do_ want to be with you!" She protests, tears pooling in her dark eyes.

"So why are you begging for forgiveness from this asshole?" He demands, glaring at me briefly before turning his attention back to a ruffled Nita. "I knew I should have just left you after one night."

"How long has this even been going on?" I interrupt, my voice raising a little.

"Five months." She whispers, ducking her head. And for the first time since I stormed in here, she looks truly ashamed.

"We're so fucking done, Nita," I spit, hatred burning my insides. "How could you do this to me? When you come back after your quaint hotel-stay, I want you to pack your bags."

"What? Where am I supposed to go, Tobias?" She wails.

"I am sure Eric would allow you to move in with him, would he not? If you two have such a deep connection that we apparently do not, then I see no reason for either of you to be seperated." I respond, icily.

"You will regret this, Tobias!" She insists as I head for the hotel room door. "Who is going to love you like I did? Who is going to love you now?"

My hand freezes on the door handle and I take a deep breath. She thinks that I am nothing without her, and I will do anything it takes to prove her wrong. Her cruel ways do not define me. They just can't.

"Me." I tell her, confidently, before swinging open the door and stepping back out into the hallway, leaving her screaming at me on the other side of the door.

I was only in there for a matter of minutes, but it continues to feel like an eternity. I probably should have stayed longer, talked it out in more depth, but I couldn't stand to look at her for much longer. I can't control her behaviour; nor do I want that burden. But I will not apologise to anybody for refusing to be lied to, disrespected and mistreated.

I storm down the hall and towards the stairs, my nails digging into the palms of my hands. I slam open the door to the stairwell and start descending the stairs, strolling straight past Tris who is huddled at the top of the flight.

"Tobias?" She asks, and I hear her footsteps start to follow me. "Tobias, wait up! Where are you going?"

I should stop and wait for her, but my feet move on their own accord and I realise that I can't stop even if tried.

I move through the lobby quickly, and I notice the decease of the chaos we previously generated. I reach the revolving door and when I get outside, I suck the cold winter air into my awaiting and desperate lungs. I remember that my coat still remains hidden in the lobby, and that I now have zero protection against the harsh climate, but I don't care enough to turn back around and retrieve it.

I am unfamiliar with this part of the city, yet I turn left and walk down the sidewalk, intent on getting as far away from that god damn hotel as humanly possible. There are a few commuters hastily making their way in and out of deli's, presumably on their lunch break.

For some reason, the traffic is pretty heavy on these streets, and the noise blocks out the insistent ringing in my ears.

I slow down slightly when I recollect that Tris is here with me too, and has no idea about how the city runs. It's like leaving a wounded giselle in a lions den. Not that she's a wounded giselle, but the analogy works.

Before I can even think about turning back, I hear someone call my name from behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see Tris sprinting down the sidewalk towards me, both of our jackets gathered up in her small arms.

She skids to a halt at my side, breathing heavy. "Every man for himself, eh?"

"I'm sorry," I say, running a hand through my hair. "I-I just needed to get away. I shouldn't have just left you, it's like I had a total mind block."

"For a minute there I thought you had really pulled a runner on me." she chuckles, nervously, as if she's scared to even talk to me. That makes me feel a lot worse.

"You don't really think I would do that, do you? I am not that diabolical." I try to ask her casually, but my tone comes across as a little sharp.

"I was kidding," she says, taking a small step back. "Let's just call another cab and head back, I'm sure you've had enough for one day without me crowding you too."

"Don't say that. You are not crowding me, I wanted you to come, knowing full well what would happen," I argue. "Look, it's around lunchtime and I could really go for some food right about now. What do you say? It's on me."

"I'm not that hungry, but I'll come along, anyway." She shrugs, handing me my jacket. I slip it on and zip it up, grateful for the slight relief it gives me from the cold. I seriously hate the winter.

As we shuffle down the street, looking for somewhere appealing to eat, Tris remains silent and doesn't push me to talk at all, which I appreciate. I want to tell her what happened in that hotel room, but I am not so sure on how to string together the sentences to do so.

We finally stumble across a cosy little cafe, and decide to just grab something in there. There is only two other customers, - not including us - an old man reading today's paper, and a middle-aged woman with a toddler, asleep in the stroller.

We take a seat at a table in the corner, and glance at their selection of simple fare.

"Are you sure you aren't at all hungry?" I ask, looking across at Tris. "It's been a long morning, you should try and eat something light, at least."

"Okay.. well, just a portion of small fries please. If that's okay?"

"Of course," I assure her. "I'll go up and order."

After shrugging off my jacket and hanging it on the back of my wooden chair, I get up from our table and approach the counter. A man of around fifty stands behind it, and offers me a bright smile as I advance.

"What can I get for you today, sir?" He asks me.

"A portion of fries, two diet sodas.. and one of your turkey sandwiches, but hold the mayo, please." I answer, forcing myself to drag up a small smile in return, but it's hard considering the foul mood I am in.

He rings it up, and I hand over the money due, then return to our table as I'm told it will be out as soon as possible. Tris is picking at the edge of a menu when I sit back down, but pushes it away when my eyes still on her.

"This place is nice, huh?" She comments, awkwardly.

I don't like the sudden tension that's settled between us; things are always so comfortable with us, so I know that something is wrong. I also know it has something to do with my haste to leave, effectively leaving her behind. She must feel a little upset by that, and I regret doing it. But I also understand that she's apprehensive to know about what happened, but does not want to push me to give her any information. I admire that about her.

"Yeah, it is rare to find such quiet places in the city." I note, looking around.

The food comes rather quickly, and the waitress is around my age, I think - she has blonde hair and a prominent chest, which pops out of her low-cut shirt. She gives me a flirty kind of glance, which I ignore completely. I'm kind of used to girls acting that way towards me, despite hating it so very much.

She finally leaves our table, and Tris rolls her eyes as she pops a salty fry into her mouth. I suppress a frown at that action; what has her irked all of a sudden? That advancing waitress?

We eat in a silence, neither making the first move to initiate a conversation. I feel like I should tell her exactly what just happened, I did drag her all the way out here, after all. But what if she is disappointed in me for not talking it out, and just breaking things off there and then? Like I have said before, her opinion really does mean a lot to me.

"I.. er, broke things off with Nita back there." I finally inform her, rubbing my hand along the back of my neck with an undisguised anxiety.

"Okay," she says, slowly. "And you regret that..?"

"No! No, it was the right decision, I know that. Seeing her there with him, listening to the things she was saying, well, I realised that maybe we weren't so compatible, after all."

"What was she saying exactly?" She presses, but then backs off. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. Just tell me that I've crossed a line, and I'll be cool."

"She was just coming out with a bunch of lies, all meaningless words. Said that nobody would love me like she did, no one would love me now. It hardly bothered me, but I am just stunned that she could act so loving towards me one minute, and then say all that the next." I explain, sighing.

"I don't understand people like that," she huffs, throwing a fry down into her plastic basket. "Don't you believe any of what she said, don't you believe it for a minute."

"I just feel like such a loser. Five months, it was going on for behind my back. Five months. How did I not figure it out sooner? It was like I was totally blind to something that was right under my nose." I admit, picking at the remains of my sandwich.

"How could you have known?" She points out. "And don't think of yourself as a loser - she's the real loser here. If you don't mind my saying, you seem like the kind of guy who tries to find the beauty in the beasts, and forever in temporary. You are just looking in all the wrong places. Nita has lost out on a great guy, but she has also given you the chance to start fresh, to leave her behind you. Don't you go wasting it."

"You always seem to be able to get into my head without me even knowing," I say, smiling a little. "I suppose I am that kind of guy; I try to find the good in people, even when there isn't much to discover in the first place. I have been trapped in that relationship for a long time, trying to figure out a way to make it work. But maybe the resolution was not how to mend the relationship, but how to get out of it. Trust me, I do not intend on throwing away my newfound freedom."

"I'm glad to hear that," she says, but then her shoulders droop, dejectedly. "But.. what is going to happen with the living arrangements? I don't mean to make this about me, but will I still have a job to go to?"

"I am keeping the house; the rent comes out of my bank account, the money that I work for. As for your job position.. I am not sure where that stands. But I can assure you that I will do whatever it takes to make sure you maintain it. I know that you need it, and besides.. I like having you around." I answer, my voice softening as I continue to speak.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I have just gotten things balanced at home, money is coming in steadily. I don't know what I would do if that was all just taken away from me."

"You won't ever have to find out. I will not rest until I have seen to it that your job remains intact." I promise her, and I mean every word.

I will do everything in my power to make sure she is able to continue as my maid - no matter what kind of curveballs and threats Nita sends my way.

After we have finished eating, we leave the cafe and sit on the bench outside as we wait for the cab I ordered. The cab drivers in the city are not usually willing to make the drive all the way back home, seeing as it's a smaller town. So I have no choice but to call a company and have them pick us up that way.

"Oh, and Tobias," Tris speaks up from beside me, her voice soft and velvety. "For the record, you deserve a lot better than Nita. I just wanted you to know that. Don't let her put you down.. you're actually a really great guy, and someday you are going to meet that one girl that will change your life forever, and make you forget all about Nita. Trust me."

I can't help but smile down at the woman perched beside me, a warmth spreading through my veins. Her words do nothing but reassure me, just as she intended them to.

In a sudden kick of courage, I reach out and take her hand in mine. It's small and gentle, fitting into mine like it is right at home. We look forward, towards the traffic, but I know for a fact that both of us wear matching grins.

I think about her words, about finding that one special girl that would change my whole outlook on life itself. The girl that would make me feel those cliche things that I never did with Nita. The true love kind of things.

Trouble is, I think I've already found her.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **AH DRAMA! Ok, a lot went down here. I know that the actual confrontation part wasn't too long, but you could hardly blame Tobias for wanting to get out of there ASAP.**

 **This is my longest chapter yet (5000 words +) which is really to thank you guys for over 200 reviews, it's crazy! All your support is so motivating, and I love to hear your feedback!**

 **Ik y'all are so anxious for our protagonists to finally start having moments together, and I will begin to write more FourTris cute scenarios, now that neither are tied down with relationships.**

 **Leave a review and let me know what you thought!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	14. Chapter 14

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 14 {Tris' POV}**

 **~three days later~**

 **-o-o-o-**

All us staff are required to return to work today, and I am not sure we are going to walk into.

We were granted a three day break from our jobs with no explanation whatsoever; Tobias simply turned us away at the door as we attempted to get on with our jobs, and told us to return after the three day period. He couldn't even look me in the eye, I remember.

Christina was curious as ever, but I had to act as ill-informed as possible - how could I justify and explain my knowledge to this whole situation? It's easier for me to just keep quiet, as desperate as I am to spill it all to Christina.

I used my three days to take care of my mom, catch up with Tori, and initiate into some further research regarding hospitals for my mom; I want to make sure that it is a good place, it's the least I can do, considering she would never agree to it if she were sane. But she isn't, and I have to make the decision myself.

I am not quite sure how to go about it though, am I supposed to just drag her into the emergency room and demand she be reviewed by some kind of psychiatric team? Or is there a mandatory process?

I wrap my coat tighter around my body as I advance towards the house, the gravel driveway crunching under my sneakers.

Reaching the grand door, I force myself to pause and knock, unsure of whether I can just let myself in or not. Despite it being my place of work, it is still someone's home. I say someone, because I have no idea as to who actually lives here at the moment.

The door opens up, and Tobias stands before me. He looks rough, to say the least; his hair is tousled, dark circles claim his undereyes, and his blue eyes don't seem as bright as they usually do.

"Miss Prior," he greets me, stiffly. "You are just in time - we're about to hold a staff meeting."

 _Miss Prior_? Where did that come from? I would have thought that we are past the whole formality thing.

Wordlessly, I step inside and go about my usual routine of hanging up my coat and storing my purse in the closet to my left. Afterwards, I follow Tobias into the kitchen, and he doesn't even spare me a glance. I am not sure as to why that stings so much.

Upon entering the kitchen, I join Christina, Fernando and Harrison at the kitchen counter. Tobias joins Nita on the opposite side of the marble island, and there is a thick silence that holds the air hostage for a few seconds.

"Well," Tobias begins, breaking that silence. "You must be wondering why we allowed you the three days break from work, I am sure, and we are going to explain exactly why."

Christina shoots me an eager look; she is the kind of girl who likes to know everybody's business, and when she is kept in the dark, it only increases her curiosity. So I'm sure she has been practically dying to know the details.

"I shall be direct, and tell you straightaway that Nita and I are no longer attached with one another." He informs us, and I can sense my co-workers shock as the news is delivered.

In truth, I am not exactly scandalised by the split; seeing how Tobias reacted after confronting Nita a couple days ago, I knew that he was no longer going to just lie down and accept her wicked ways as they came. However, I did not expect it to be this soon, I must admit.

"We will not disclose the details of our separation, as it is none of your business, clearly," Nita adds, her nose scrunching up at the thought of us having knowledge of their business. Or rather, of her cheating. "But we have been discussing living arrangements, job positions and such, and have come to a decision regarding all of those things."

"Yes, it has been finalised that Harrison will move on with Nita into her next living placement and work there, while Fernando, Tris and Christina will continue to work for me as I stay here." Tobias explains, clasping his hands behind his back, seemingly uncomfortable.

I turn to inspect Harrison's reaction, to find indifference plastered on his face. It is no surprise that Nita has decided to bring Harrison along with her, she's always favourited him out of us four. He's constantly brown nosing her too, so I doubt he's too troubled by the prospect.

"Well, when does Miss Pablos move out?" Fernando questions.

"Today," she answers for herself, swiftly. "I have had my things taken to my new home already, so it is just a matter of leaving myself."

"Well, I'm sure I speak for us all when I wish you the best in whatever you will be doing from here on out." I vocalise, trying to seem as convincing as possible, which is extremely difficult for me to do as a large part of me wants to reach over the counter and slap her silly.

"Mmm," she says, shooting me a distasteful look. "Well, I am sure that this will be a good opportunity for me to widen my connections, get a better status around here. Now that I am no longer tied down to a noxious anchor, that is."

I watch as Tobias clenches his jaw, angrily and opens his mouth to comeback with, "Let us just remember who it is packing their bags, and who kicked who out, shall we? I wouldn't act too sophisticated about this whole thing; God knows that time has passed."

Christina pinches the skin on my wrist, giving me a side glance that conveys a kind of uneasy animation. She's always approved of drama, and is always acting as if she is starring in her own soap opera. I supply her with a tight smile, and turn back to the dramatics that's unfolding before our eyes.

Suddenly becoming aware of their conduct, Tobias straightens up and his expression fades back to neutral, any trace of anger or frustration disappearing within seconds.

"I think it would be about time you were departing, don't you think?" He prompts, turning towards his ex-fiancé with an unreadable poker face.

"What a splendid idea. The last of my belongings have been loaded up, so Harrison you will come with me now and I will let you settle into your new workplace."

"Yes, ma'am," Harrison agrees, and then turns to us with a watery smile. "It's been a pleasure working with each of you, and I will truly miss you all."

"Oh, Harrison." Christina whispers, flinging her arms around his neck. Fernando initiates in a friendly handshake, and I simply smile in recognition of his goodbye.

I haven't worked here all that long, not as long as any of them, so I didn't have the chance to develop any kind of friendship with Harrison; Nita always kept him busy, so we didn't spend as much time with him as we did each other. It's a shame, really.

Within the next fifteen minutes, Nita and Harrison have left, Tobias has disappeared upstairs, leaving Christina, Fernando and I alone in the kitchen, still trying to process what has just happened.

"Can you believe she's really gone? It feels weird." Fernando is the first to speak up, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

"I wonder what happened," Christina adds, curiousity lacing into her words. "I mean, he practically implied it was her fault, whatever it was. Which isn't exactly hard to believe. Maybe she spent all of his money on more plastic surgery, or had an affair with the president?"

"I honestly doubt that, Christina. Maybe they just lost their spark, some relationships end that way.. feelings get lost."

"And you know all about that, right, Fernando?" She retorts, sarcastically. "I forgot you were the relationship expert here. Please forgive me."

"Look here -,"

"Guys, can we just stop?" I interrupt, scowling. "Nita is gone. It's not our business to know why, or whose fault it may have been. That is between Tobias and Nita, simple as. So why don't we just drop it?"

"But aren't you just a little bit interested in the reason behind this whole thing? I understand that Nita must be a handful, but Tobias always seemed so.. patient. I just never saw this coming."

"Even the most tolerant of people have their limits." I shrug.

"You wouldn't know anything about paciencia, mi amor." Fernando tells Christina, showing off his Spanish.

"I didn't understand a word of whatever you just said, but I have a feeling that it was something mean so there's only one thing I can say to you, you son of a -,"

Rolling my eyes, I walk away from the island counter where the duo bicker playfully, and towards the coffee machine. I don't know if I should approach Tobias right now, but I should at least take a coffee to him. By the looks of him, he needs the caffeine boost.

Once it is ready and made just the way he likes it, I pick up the mug and go to head out the kitchen.

"And where are you running off to, chica?" Fernando questions as I pass them.

"Taking a coffee to Tobias while you idiots sit around and argue." I shoot back, but I smile to let him know that I'm kidding.

"Coffee?" He echoes, wrinkling his nose in disagreement. "He'd be better off with one of my special cocktails. With extra vodka, of course."

"It's not even nine yet! I doubt any of your cocktails - no matter how heavy in vodka - will do him any good. So I think that I will take the safer bet."

"No sabes nada sobre ahogar tus penas." He mutters as I leave the room, cradling the hot china mug in my hands. Like Christina, I haven't the slightest idea of what he is saying most of the time. Nonetheless, his antics do make me laugh.

I ascend the stairs carefully, trying not to spill any coffee, and make my way towards the library; I've come to realise that he tends to hide out in there when shit goes down. He likes his privacy, I know that much.

I hesitate before knocking at the door - I know that we have developed some kind of odd friendship, but I'm not so sure where I stand in all of this, or how I'm supposed to act around him now. Mustering up the courage, I knock and wait for the beckoning call.

I wait for a good minute, and knock twice, but there is no answer. Sighing, I turn around and head back for the stairs, conceding.

But then a voice comes from the opposite end of the hall, near the master bedroom.

"Tris, is that you?" He asks, poking his head around the doorframe.

"Er, yeah," I fumble. "I-I brought you up some coffee, I thought you could maybe use it."

He steps out of the bedroom fully, and reaches me in a few strides. He takes the mug from me and offers a tired kind of smile. "Thanks, I really did need this.."

"That's alright," I shrug, glancing back towards the staircase. "I'll just get back to work now, I should probably get started on cleaning out the refrigerator."

"Tris," he stops me before I can leave. "I just.. well, you won't tell anyone about what you saw, about what you know? I shouldn't have brought you along with me. It wasn't something a good friend would have done - putting all of that on your shoulders wasn't fair, especially as I'm supposed to be your boss."

"What are you getting at?" I press, frowning now.

"I just don't think this is an intelligent move on our part. Don't get me wrong, I want to be friends with you, and I want you to feel comfortable around me. But Nita was right when she told me that I looked at you differently than I do the others, and maybe not in the way you are thinking of." He explains, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, completely confused. "You don't think this is right? But I don't understand how it could be wrong. We're friends. You said yourself that there is nothing bad about it. So, what? You have just changed your mind?"

"You don't understand. I can't be friends with you, Tris. Getting too close to you is the last thing I need right now." He says, his voice small.

Before I can speak to that, he turns away and walks back towards his room. I want to stop him, but my voice has deserted me, so I just stand here and watch him walk away.

I release a sharp breath and turn back to the staircase, descending them quickly, my thoughts all tangled. What did he mean when he said that he looked at me differently? And why can't he get close to me? I can't help but feel annoyed at what just happened; acting so vague and then screwing me over?

Maybe he is finally realising how different we really are - or at least where we come from - and doesn't want to have such a lower class friend? The prospect of that being true makes me sick to my stomach.

As I reach the foot of the marble steps, there is a knock at the front door. Huffing silently, I head for the door and open it up, ignoring the cold that claws at my face as soon as I do.

A man stands before me, around the same age as Tobias, I would say. I recognise him from the dinner party they hosted - the one that allowed Tobias to discover what was really happening behind his back. He has dark-toned skin, with eyes the colour of rich soil flecked with black.

"Is Tobias home?" He wants to know.

"Yes, come in," I say, stepping back and allowing him to slip inside. "May I ask your name?"

"Zeke Pedrad, but you can call me your future husband." He retorts, flashing me a toothy smile.

"Zeke is fine," I say, rolling my eyes in amusement. "He's upstairs. Can I take your coat? Get you anything? A drink, perhaps?"

"I'm okay, but thank you. It's Tris, isn't it?"

"Yes.. how did you know that?" I ask, curiously. "I don't think I ever told you my name at that dinner party. I'm sure that you attended."

"You didn't need to. Tobias talks about you, like, a lot. Nita didn't exactly take to that very well during their separation. She constantly accused him of having feelings for you, until he had enough and decided that she needed to go. But I'm sure you know all about that."

"No, actually. I didn't know any of that." I tell him, quietly, my eyes lowering down to my feet.

"Shit," he curses, panicking. "I thought, well, I assumed that you knew, considering you went along with him to the city -,"

"He told you that?" I ask, taken aback.

"Okay, I'm just going to shut up now. You say Tobias is upstairs?" He gulps, gesturing towards the staircase.

"Yes, in the master bedroom, the last time I saw him." I confirm. He nods shortly and practically sprints for the steps, running a hand over his short raven hair.

"Oh, and Zeke," I call out, stopping him. He looks over his shoulder at me. "Tell Tobias to stop fucking with my head, if not, then that's the last time I'll ever see him as anything more than an employer."

I step away from the staircase and head for the kitchen, running a hand through my hair in frustration. Why can Tobias tell everything to his friends, but I can't do the same? And why would Nita accuse him of having feelings for me? We are friends, aren't we? Nothing more, nothing less. So why the hell does he keep talking about me? I'm just so confused!

Entering the kitchen, I find Christina washing dishes at the sink, and Fernando flipping through a random fashion magazine.

"Everything alright?" Christina asks when she notices my presence.

"Yeah," I mumble. "I'm just 'gunna get started on the bathroom, make sure it's all done."

After grabbing the cleaning equipment from beneath the sink, I have to go back upstairs yet again, and go straight into the hall-connected bathroom. I spend a good half an hour scrubbing at the sterling silver faucets on both the sink and the tub, working up a sweat.

When I move on to cleaning the bathtub itself, I go as hard as I can with the damp cleaning rag, trying to let out all of my frustration. It doesn't work though, it only reminds me of why I am so annoyed in the first place.

I was so sure of things between Tobias and I; he told me himself that we could be friends, so why now has he decided differently? Did I do something wrong? If I did, I am completely unaware and it was obviously unintentional. And why is he acting so weird about it all?

But most importantly, why on earth would Nita believe that someone like Tobias could have any kind of feelings for me? It just doesn't make sense. The very idea is laughable.

I mean, look at us. He lives in this great big house, has people to wait on him hand and foot, and has money practically falling out of his pockets. And I'm just a messed-up girl who struggles to pay for the simplest of things, who has no idea what it feels like to be safe, and who can barely afford to keep a roof over her head.

I'm nothing compared to Tobias, so the fact that Nita believed that he could ever look at me romantically further proves my theory that she really was just a pretty face.

I have no idea why, but anger slowly fades to disappointment. Well, maybe I do have a guess as to why that is, but I'm not willing to admit it to myself just yet. Or ever. Not after the way he treated me earlier; it's clear that he wants nothing to do with me, and who could blame him?

If I were him, I'd steer well clear of me too.

A tear slips down my cheek, and I wipe it away, angrily. I can't cry over something this stupid, something so obviously impossible.

But I am tired of having to guess what everyone is thinking - why can't anyone just be straight with me? I'm done playing games, and Tobias is clearly set on messing with my head and my feelings, which means I'm done with him too. It's time I give myself a reality check; maybe this is the kick up the ass I needed.

After bleaching the toilet, I gather up my supplies and exit the bathroom, instantly plastering on a brave face. My thoughts are for myself, and for myself only. No one has to know what's going on inside my head. And the way to make sure it stays that way, is to just act normal.

I have that mastered, so it won't be a problem. But I have a feeling that this time will bear new difficulties; and I have a bad feeling about all of this.

As I make my way towards the staircase, I hear voices in the study to my left, and pause to listen in as I recognise them as Fernando and Christina.

"Tris is acting a little strange, don't you think?" I hear Christina say. "I mean, shutting me down when I voiced my curiosity about the mysterious split... why'd you think that was?"

"I'm not sure, but surely you must see what could be occurring between Tris and Tobias?" He responds.

"What are you talking about, Fernando? Has all of your hair gel finally infected your brain?"

"You're telling me that you don't see the way he looks at her? The way she attempts to defend his every action? And Nita's jealously - clearly, she picked up on the same thing that I have." He says, quietening his voice considerably, but I can still hear him clearly.

"I guess I have noticed some things like that.. the way he watches her when she isn't looking, and how devensive Tris gets when it comes to him," Christina admits, sounding somewhat torn, like she doesn't want to believe it. "But Tris isn't like that; I'm certain she hasn't made any kind of advances towards him, especially not when Nita was in the picture. I haven't known her for long, but she's just so genuine. What you are telling me just doesn't sound like the Tris I have come to know."

"I know that, silly woman!" He huffs. "I like that girl just as much as you do, and I believe that she wouldn't do such a thing as have an affair with an engaged man, let alone her engaged _employer_. But that doesn't stop the attraction, right? As my mama used to say, _el verdadero amor nunca muere_."

"What?"

"True love never dies," he reiterates. "I can see it between them! You must be blind or oblivious not to pick up on the sexual tension."

"Oh c'mon, leave it out. True love? They aren't even dating! And I doubt they ever will. I long for happy endings as much as the next girl does, but men like Tobias just don't go for women like Tris, or women like me, for that matter. Social hierarchy prevents all that shit, don't you see?" Christina argues.

I press my back against the wall just outside of the study, holding my breath, my heart pounding angrily in my chest. I'm not sure whether to feel annoyed that they are talking about me behind my back, confused as to why Fernando is so sure that Tobias and I have something between us, or depressed because Christina has confirmed my deepest fears. But for right now, I can't seem to look past my bewilderment.

What are they even talking about? Fernando is calling Christina delusional, but he's the one trying to invent some kind of connection between Tobias and I.

Once upon a time, I may have believed it - considering the way he acts around me, and how open I am with him, and he gives me a warm feeling deep in my stomach that nobody else can - but he has made it very clear that he doesn't even want to be friends.

I step away from the wall and silently leave the hallway, returning to my original journey to the stairs. Just as I reach them, Tobias and Zeke emerge from the master bedroom, and their eyes still on me, almost simultaneously.

"Ms Prior, would you mind seeing my guest out?" He asks, gesturing towards Zeke.

I should be respectful, seeing as he is my boss, but I'm too blinded by all of my emotions to care about being professional in the slightest.

"I'm sure you could use the legs God gave you and do it yourself, I actually have work to do." I snap, tightening my grip on the bottle of cleaning fluid in my hand.

"Excuse me?" He asks, taken aback. "Remember your place, Prior. You do not address me in such an ungracious manner, are we clear?"

Rolling my eyes, I turn away and descend the stairs, clenching my jaw and fighting to keep control of myself. But it isn't proving to be exceedingly difficult.

"Do not walk away from me when I am talking to you!" He exclaims, following me. "Tris, are you asking to get fired? Because you are very close to it."

"Tobias, calm down." I hear Zeke say, so I presume he accompanied him in the chase.

"No, I shall not calm down! I will not be spoken to in that way, not under my roof, and certainly not by a _maid_ , of all people."

I stop dead in my tracks after he utters that sentence, and I can hear the ticking of a time bomb in my head. I understand what he is going through right now must be difficult, but why take it out on me? After everything.. I'm just a maid to him? Is that the way he truly sees me?

I spin around to face him, my eyes burning into his as they meet. His expression is as wrathful as I expect mine to be.

"You don't have to fire me," I say, my voice cold. "Because I quit."

I watch the hardness in his bright blue orbs melt away, until all that is left is pain. Raw and fresh. It's like all of the promises he made, all of the secrets we shared, have all been ripped apart and burnt to ashes. I don't even know who this man is, because he certainly isn't who I have come to know. Not at all.

"Tris," he says, evenly. "Would you go and wait in the library? If you are serious about this, then we will need to discuss what is to happen next, wouldn't you agree?"

"I don't expect much empathy from you, of course, after all, I'm just your maid, right?" I spit, my eyes narrowed at a face I used to admire, but now long for myself to despise.

I don't give him the chance to respond, as I push past him and Zeke to ascend the stairs, where I pass a gawping Fernando and Christina.

As requested, I enter the library and slam the door shut behind me. I grab a fistful of hair and let out a frustrated groan, feeling as if I may just implode any second now. I know that I have fucked up, and bad, at that. I've just thrown away a job that I need in order to survive, and it only took a few seconds to do so. I have no idea what will happen next, and I wish I could turn back time and just show Zeke to the door, rather than kick up such a fuss.

I don't know if Tobias will really let me stay if I tell him that I regret what I said - he knows my difficulties at home, and that I need this job badly. But I've never seen him so angry, and half of that rage wasn't even aimed at me, more like himself. Even when he walked away from me in the city, he didn't seem this seething. So what's changed since then?

After five minutes of me pacing the large room, the door swings open with force and Tobias steps inside, closing it behind him with the same amount of vigour.

"What is going on with you, Tris?" He asks, his voice raised a little. "I have never seen you act out like that, and I could never imagine you being like that either. And then to just go and quit, while you have a mother in need at home? What is going through your head!?"

"What is up with _me_? Are you serious? You have the audacity to tell me that you don't want to be friends for no apparent reason, make me feel like shit all day, and then start yelling at me? Throwing around threats about me being fired? And you expect me to just lie down and take it?"

"I am doing what I have to do! Do you honestly believe that I would be opposed to us being friends?" He hisses.

"It seems that way," I counter, standing my ground. "I just don't understand; after everything you told me, all the stuff I showed you... why now do you decide that I'm not good enough?"

"Not good enough?" Tobias echoes through gritted teeth. "I never want to hear you say that again. You are more than good enough, and don't you ever think any less of yourself. But Nita was right about me not being as committed as I once was -,"

"Wait a minute, what has the lack of commitment in your car crash relationship got to do with this?"

"You aren't getting it, are you?" He sighs, running a hand through his short, dark locks.

"No, because you haven't explained anything! You've just pushed me away for no reason. And somehow, you've convinced me that it is my fault! But I don't even know what I have done to upset you.." I yell, unable to contain myself.

"It is not your fault, if anyone is to blame it would be me," he stresses. "I'm sorry for shutting you out, and I know how bad I have treated you today, and I apologise for that. But with Nita leaving, my job hanging in the balance.. I just don't know what I am supposed to hang on to. Everything seems to be getting messed up lately, and I did not want you to get caught up in it all. I act selfishly, and I certainly deserve every aggressive name that you have labelled me as today."

"Why didn't you just tell me? I mean, you don't think I understand messed up? It's all I know." I point out, softening slightly.

"Tris, when I mentioned earlier that Nita accused me of looking at you differently.. and I think she might be right, as much as I hate to admit it. I didn't want her to be right, so I tried to push you away, to separate myself as your employer. Clearly, it wasn't the most intelligent plan I have ever formed."

"Please, help me understand," I plea. "What does different entail exactly? I mean, I have somewhat of an idea but I know that it can't be true.."

"Look, I do not even know what I feel, or how far that feeling extends. But what I do know, is that when I'm with you, I feel better than I ever have before. Nita couldn't make me feel that way, but somehow, you can," he approaches me, becoming only a few inches away in a matter of three strides. "You make me feel like there is some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. Tris... you feel like home. And it confuses the hell out of me. But I cannot keep hiding it away like it is some kind of disgusting secret."

I can't even form a sentence, I don't know what to say to that. It just doesn't make any sense for a guy like him to even give someone like me a second glance.

But I don't have much time to mull it over as I become suddenly aware of our proximity, and the fact that it is slowly closing as he leans in. And what surprises me most, is that I accept his advance and tilt my head upward.

But when his lips are a mere centimetre away from my own, there is a quick and urgent-sounding knock at the wooden door.

Pulling away from me with frustrated sigh, he returns to the door and opens it up, somewhat angrily. "Christina, what is it? We are busy."

"Sorry to interrupt," she apologises, and then her eyes skirt to mine, and I instantly know that something bad is about to happen. "The hospital called, asking for Tris. They want her to get down there right away."

"Why? What is it?" Tobias questions, glancing at me; and I know that the same guess of what happened is forming in his head too.

"It's your mom... something terrible has happened."

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Ok, so not only is this my longest chapter but it's also the most drama-packed one I've ever written ever! Yes, Tobias has finally come to terms with his feelings, but of course, nothing is ever easy for our protagonists!**

 **Also, a quick side note, the departure of Nita was rather brief but that was for a purpose - I wanted to portray Tobias' emotions and how the split has affected him, rather than write out a dramatic leaving scene. I hope it turned out ok?**

 **Alas, you have not seen the last of Nita!**

 **Reviews and constructive comments are always welcomed :)**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	15. Chapter 15

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 15 {Tris' POV}**

 **~three weeks later~**

 **-o-o-o-**

Standing at the sink, my nails pressed against the cool metal, I gaze out of the window at the heavy grey sky, and sigh quietly. The house is quiet - too quiet - and it's making me feel sick. It never was the most boisterous of places, not since Dad passed, but now there's only silence, nothing else for me to cling to.

I inhale sharply and pull away from the sink, turning towards the door. I wander down the hall, and stop in front of the mirror, studying my appearance.

My blonde hair has been washed for the first time in a week, and curled perfectly. I chose to wear the same dress I did for Dad's funeral, black and long sleeved, but it's a little on the small side nowadays. Not that it matters; I have nothing else for the occasion, anyway.

My feet are slipped into my special sneakers - the clean and moderately taken-care-of pair, and I have gone to the effort of wearing face makeup, in order to cover up the week of crying and neglection of personal hygiene.

Just as I am about to look away from my reflection, there is a sturdy knock at the front door, only a few feet away. Confused as to who it could be, I undo the bolt lock and open it a little, so I can get a look at my uninvited guest first.

To my genuine surprise, Tobias Eaton stands on the other side, huddled in a black coat.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I ask, opening the door up properly, looking at him with a puzzled frown.

"I figured you may need a ride to the church.. seeing as you don't own a car," he shrugs. "Sorry to be so brazen, but would you mind if I came inside? It is freezing out here.."

"Yes, of course. Please, do come in. I should've asked you, but you just took me by surprise, is all." I say, sincerely, allowing him to step inside before closing the door behind us. "Could I get you anything?" I ask, trying to play host. "Tea? Coffee? Juice?"

"Coffee would be nice, thank you." He answers, polite as ever, as he follows me into the kitchen.

As I make up the coffee pot, I can't help but ask, "How did you know about the funeral? I don't remember telling you about it, at all.."

"I visited Tori at the diner, to check if she had any updates on how you were doing - I would have called in myself, but I understood that you needed the privacy. She informed me that today was the funeral, and she did not mention that she would be providing you with transport, so I thought that I would offer. If that is alright? Feel free to send me packing."

"Thanks, Tobias. You really didn't have to do this, but a ride would be nice. Walking in this weather doesn't seem so appealing." I respond, but I can't bring myself to smile at him, so I go back to pulling out mugs from the cabinets above my head.

"It is great to see you again, Tris," he adds, all soft. "Though, I can't help but wish that it were under better circumstances."

"Yeah, I have found myself wishing for that too." I approach the table where Tobias has taken a seat, and put down the mugs, sliding into the chair opposite my guest.

"So, I am aware of how stupid this question is," he begins, cradling the coffee in his large hands. "But how are you doing?"

I can't meet his gaze, so I take a sip of the milky coffee and keep my eyes averted, trying to form a sentence to respond with. _How am I doing?_

I have the urge to lie to him, to insist that I'm doing okay, that although the pain is still fresh and hard, I am dealing with it well. But this is Tobias, with his deep blue eyes and his warm aura, and I can't bring myself to lie to him. What have I got left to lose, anyhow?

"I haven't really done anything since she passed," I admit, looking down at the chipped mug in my hand. "I don't think I'll ever be able to get over it. Dad's death was one thing - because at least I still had one parent, even if she wasn't totally there, mentally - but now I have neither. And that.. well that really sucks. I truly never learned what the words _I miss you_ meant, until one day when I reached for her hand and it wasn't there."

Mom died last week, due to the poisoning of her lungs and kidneys, which soon enough spread to her heart, causing her to go on a life support machine. She had overdosed on anti-depressants. Somehow, she managed to get up off that couch, snap out of whatever trance she had been in, and reach the meds on the top shelf.

She was pronounced to be in a coma a few hours after she arrived at the hospital. I sat by her side for the two weeks she spent there, dead to the world, and eventually the doctors broke the news that it was very unlikely - impossible, almost - that she would ever wake up. The only thing that was keeping her alive was the life support machine; without that, her body would not be able to survive on its own.

With my consent, and after an emotional goodbye on my part, they went through the process of taking her away from the life support. They told me it was painless, and that it'd feel like falling asleep to her. At least she would be away from all the grief and the heartbreak. But in return, I have taken it on my shoulders instead.

"I guess, it's just hard to believe she's really gone." I add, sighing against the rim of the mug.

"It usually appears that the people you care about most in this world, get taken away from you too soon." He states, flatly.

I nibble on my lip, turning that over in my head; as bad as a time that this is, I can at least admit to myself that I care deeply for Tobias, whether he fully knows that or not. Does that mean he will be taken away too? Because I don't think I can handle much more of that.

"The thing that gets me through - that gives me a glimmer of happiness - is knowing that she is finally back with my dad, where she always wanted to be. I know that she loved me, she told me so a million times before everything happened, but true love wins over everything, I suppose. At least now she has someone who can make her truly happy, which is what I couldn't do."

"No," he snaps, a sudden cold edge to his voice. "Don't you dare say those things about yourself. You can't pin the blame on yourself like that. You did everything you could to help her, and don't ever think that you weren't good enough."

I could argue back, fight my case, but judging by the clock on the wall, I don't have enough time - the funeral is set to begin in ten minutes.

Standing up, I gesture towards the door. "C'mon, we had better get going."

Following my actions, he quickly finishes his coffee and trails after me towards the front door, where I grab my coat, to shield me from the cold.

His shiny black Bugatti is parked at the sidewalk, sticking out like a sore thumb among the cheap houses that dwell on the street. I am surprised it hadn't been tagged or stolen in the time that we were inside.

"Sorry," he says, embarrassed, as he spots me eyeing the car, sceptically. "It was this or the Lamborghini.. I figured that black would better fit the occasion, anyway."

Placing his hand on my lower back, sending a sudden jolt of adrenaline through my bloodstream, he leads me to the expensive car, and opens the passenger door for me, closing it after I am situated in the leather seat, then migrating to the drivers side.

He gets behind the wheel and starts up the engine, glancing over at me to check my seatbelt is on before pulling away from the sidewalk.

The drive is silent, excluding the hum of the engine and the traffic outside. It only takes a couple minutes to get to the church, considering how small this town really is.

After he switches off the engine, now parked in the small lot, neither of us make a move to get out. I think he may have to drag me; I'm not so sure that I can face this anymore.

But all of my fears are pushed aside when he reaches across to take my hand in his own, interlocking our fingers, and rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. The gesture makes me feel a whole lot better.

"W-will you come sit up front with me?" I whisper, my eyes burning into his.

"Of course," he assures me. "I'm going to be right by your side throughout the whole thing, no matter what. Ok?"

After nodding faintly, he leans over a little and presses his tempting lips to my forehead, before getting out of the car. He arrives at my door before I can even reach the handle, and opens it up for me. He locks up the car itself and then reaches for my hand once more, and I welcome it gratefully, clasping it tightly as we advance towards the large grey church.

Inside, the organist is playing a slow, sad song that makes me want to slit my wrists, and the church is full of people - old friends, neighbours, most of the community, really. They sit in rows, huddled in black coats, navy jackets, silent, respectful.

Tori, Bud and their daughter, Summer, are halfway along the aisle, to the right, along with Christina and a blonde guy; who I assume to be the infamous boyfriend. Echo - the new waitress at Tori's - has come too with the rest of her family, and I also spot Frank from the diner, whom I haven't seen for a long while.

Surprisingly, I also notice that Myra and Edward have made a appearance, and she squeezes the hand that isn't clasped with Tobias' as we pass by.

Tobias guides me towards the front, and we take our seats on the empty pew. Not long after, the funeral Mass begins. The priest says sad things, lovely things, about Mom, and everyone sings sad hymns.

I don't cry. I've shed enough tears the past few weeks, and now there are none left to spill over. But others do, and that's ok.

Looking over my shoulder briefly, my eyes fall upon Tori who attempts at a weak smile, through watery eyes, her heavy eyeliner slightly smudged from the tears. I don't smile back; what's the point in pretending, anyway?

Tobias doesn't cry either - I expected that. Not only did he only meet my mother once, when she wasn't exactly sane, but he's just not the kind of man to show emotion in such a public event. We are similar in that way, I suppose.

Then it's over, and everyone swarms out of the church. That's the hardest bit - people are hugging me, holding me, pressing my hand, telling me that my Mom was a good woman, a wonderful woman, a saint.

Christina throws her arms around my neck, and she smells like sweet perfume, pulling me into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" I say, lightly, as she loosens her grip on me. "You couldn't have done anything about it. Shit happens."

"I'm just sorry that it had to happen to you.. all of this, y'know? You - of all people - do not deserve it. Not at all."

"It can't be helped," I say, simply, before turning to the man at her side - Will, is my guess - and extend my hand to him. "I don't believe that we've met. I'm Tris."

"I'm Will, the boyfriend. I've heard a lot about you, Christina has taken a liking to you, if you didn't already know." He answers, shaking my hand twice before looking to Tobias, who stands on my left. "Mr Eaton, good to see you."

"And you," Tobias responds, politely. "It has certainly been a while."

"Well, we'll leave you to it; you know where I am if you need me, Tris - for anything." Christina reminds me, swiftly leaning over to plant a kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you, I'll see you at work when I return. Which will be sooner than you'd have probably expected," I admit. "In fact, I plan on returning in a matter of days."

"Tris," Tobias says, frowning. "Are you sure about that? I am more than happy to allow you the time to grieve.. your work will still be there when you are in the correct mindset to return."

At this point, Christina and Will have drifted away, but not before she sends me a look that clearly implies that we will talk about the Tobias situation, the next chance we get to talk alone.

"Look, I just want to go back to normal. I have taken seven days off to mourn over the loss of my mom, and now I have had enough of the tears. I want to put my head down and just do something, instead of shuffling about the empty house, feeling sorry for myself." I tell him, determinedly.

Before he can form an answer, Tori advances with her husband - Bud, who is assisted by his crutch - and their little girl, Summer, who looks like a picture, even in her funeral attire.

Tori pulls me into a fierce, protective hug, and strokes my hair, holding me for a good length of time. She smells like dark-scented perfume, apple shampoo and baked goods.

It takes all I have not to cling onto her like a lifeline, and sob into her shoulder like a child. But I have to be stronger than that. And besides, I have done my fair share of crying.

She pulls back and cups my face in her hands, a tear dripping from her dark eyes. "Oh, Tris," she murmurs. "I'm so sorry. I tried everything I could to bring her back.."

It was Tori who found her body, and it was Tori who called 911. I can't help but accept the burden of guilt, knowing that it was my fault that she had to find my mom like that. It should have been me at home; this never would have happened if I were there to prevent it.

"How many times? It. Wasn't. Your. Fault! Please don't keep explaining it all to me, just know that I don't blame you. Not one bit."

Gently pulling his wife aside, Bud gives me a friendly side hug, his crutch digging into my side slightly, and ruffles my hair, sadness filling his chocolate eyes.

At the same time, Summer clings onto one of my legs, burying her face into my thigh - she doesn't know what's wrong, not really, but even a child can tell when there is a tense and serious kind of situation. She may not understand fully, but I'm willing to bet that she knows a lot more than we believe.

"I'm sorry about your ma' kiddo," Bud sighs. "It's a real shame. She was a good woman, always doing stuff for others. It's just the way she was - didn't need to ask Natalie to do something for ya'; odds are that she's already out doing it, anyhow."

"Yeah, she was a good woman." I agree, but the word _was_ sticks in my throat, like a sliver of glass. Will I ever get used to it?

"Don't worry, Trissy," Summer speaks up, from where she still loosely hugs my leg. "Mama told me that your mommy is in heaven now, with all the other angels."

"That's right," I say, softly, my hand moving over her jet black curls, fondly. "It's nice up there, don't you worry. All of the angels will take real good care of her."

"You remember, Tris, your mother loved you very much. And so did your dad, for that matter. Even if they aren't here to say it. But that doesn't mean that they aren't here at all - they never leave you. They always stay right here," she presses two fingers over my heart. "And don't you forget it, my love."

After a couple more hugs, and a loud kiss on the nose by Summer, the family of three migrate back into the dark-clothed mourners.

I notice that Tobias left, and is talking with Will and Christina, looking lighter than he did earlier, which provides a somewhat good feeling - I care about him. More than I should. More than what is allowed. I've known that for a while now. But what can I do?

I sit on the church steps, and a few people come and tell me that they are "sorry for my loss" and other sympathetic comments, but mostly I am left alone - which I am thankful for. I guess, I just need some alone time. For a while, at least.

But when Tobias approaches, hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive coat, the tips of his ears red from the cold, I instantly crave his company. Not anyone else. Just him.

"Mind if I sit?" He asks, and he doesn't look at me like the others are; he looks at me like I'm a person, and not just some fragile object that could break at the drop of a hat.

"Please." I say, patting the space beside me to my right. He slumps down pretty close to me, so that our shoulders press into one another. I suppress the idea of snuggling even closer; not here, not now.

Besides, even if I wasn't at my mother's funeral, I don't think that I'd have the courage to be so forward, anyway - who's to say that he even wants me in that way?

"That was intense," he comments, attempting to break the silence that had settled upon the two of us. "You still hanging in there, soldier?"

"Moderately. I just - well, everyone keeps telling me how wonderful she was, how great she was, but nobody - nobody - came to the rescue when we needed it the most. They may have cared, but not enough. And now they just show up and cry at her funeral, convincing themselves that there was nothing they could have done to prevent that suicide? Bullshit, in my opinion."

"They are just paying their respects," he reasons. "And besides, how were they to know of your struggles? I know that you are not the kind of girl to strut around town, shouting your problems at the population."

"Whatever. Just let me be mad, ok?" I mutter.

"No, because being angry is not going to solve anything, nor will it bring anybody back. You must move forward in happiness - and although that may be a long shot, for right now - that is what you must strive to obtain. Isn't that what your mother would want for you?"

" _Stop_." I hiss. "Don't pretend that you'd know what she would want. You didn't know her. I understand what you are trying to do, but just _back off._ "

I expect him to argue back, to put me in my place like he usually does, but he concedes. He shuts his mouth and diverts his attention to the people filing towards the parking lot, ready to go home. _Lucky_ _them_ , I think, bitterly, _at least they've got a real home to go to._

He gets to his feet, suddenly, and brushes off his slacks before descending the little amount of steps to level ground.

"Hey, where are you going?" I call out, suddenly desperate for him to stay. Why am I like this? I sound like a child, for God sake.

He pauses and looks over his shoulder - not in anger, but in confusion. "You clearly just told me to back off, meaning 'give you some space'. So that is what I am doing.."

"I didn't mean it like that," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "What I meant was, I just want you to back out of my business.. stop telling me what to think and how to react. I'm sorry if I'm taking it out on you, you've been really sweet about this whole thing. It's just that nobody understands."

"I may not be able to relate to your situation entirely," Tobias says, turning back to face me properly, but doesn't make a move to sit back down. "But I do know what it feels like to lose your family. You know all about my father.. and my mother isn't exactly what you would call a role-model, and I don't even think I would count her as my family. The Pedrad's are like a family to me, of course, but it's just not the same. Loss comes in all different forms, Tris, and I've plentiful experience with it."

"I just want a safe place to land," I whisper, bowing my head. "I want a family to love, a house that feels like a real home. Everyone else gets that, what makes us so different, huh? Why did we have to draw the short straw?"

"You will never know, but I believe that things happen for reason, and what should be, shall be. We have been thrown some curveballs, yes; but we are still here, are we not? That must be something, surely. If there is a God out there - anywhere - then he must decide what comes and goes. And he must do that for a reason. We must trust in that reason."

"I didn't know that you were religious," I say, cocking my head to the side slightly. "You really believe in the whole God stuff? Personally, I think it's a pile of shit, but whatever flips your pancakes, I guess..."

"I am not sure whether to believe in it, but I would like to think that we all have some kind of purpose, some reason to be here. There must be something. There has to be." He points out, nibbling on his full lower lip.

"They say that God can heal your broken heart, but he's always seemed so far away."

After a couple moments of silence, he finally says, "Would you like for me to take you home? It is getting pretty cold out here."

"That'd be great, but if it's out of your way or anything, I could always walk -"

" _Walk_?" He scoffs. "In this weather? Sure, if you intend to catch neumonia. Otherwise, follow me to your carriage, m'lady."

Getting up from the cold stone steps, I reach his side and together we leave the church, away from the graveyard, and towards the now empty parking lot. Once safe inside of his fancy car, he turns on the heating and dials up the seat warmers too.

The car itself is beautiful, with its black interior and exterior, cohering perfectly with one another. Just looking at it is a luxury for me.

The ride home is a silent affair, and I curl up against the warm leather, closing my eyes every now and again, content despite the events of today.

He pulls up on the sidewalk, and turns off the engine. But neither he or I makes any kind of movement to move from our positions.

"With everything that's happened, I forgot to ask you how you are doing.." I speak up first, sheepishly. How could I forget about his struggles? He lost his fiancé only three weeks ago, that must still be a sore spot for him.

"Me?" He questions, and looks surprised that I even bothered to ask - Nita never did. "Er, I'm well, I suppose. Nita collected the last of her things a few days back, and that was the end of it. Obviously, word has gotten out about the split, and to say my mother is furious would be an extravagant understatement. But honestly, the freedom that has come with our seperation was so worth every argument. I finally feel like.. _me_ again."

"I'm really glad to hear that." I tell him, truthfully. He deserves to finally feel good.

"Everything would be perfect.. but there's still one thing missing. However, I do not know where I stand with that, so the odds aren't too likely." He shrugs, staring at the steering wheel, nervously.

"Hey, d'you maybe wanna' come inside?" I ask, equally as uneasy. "I'd really like some company right now. The house just feels so empty. But don't feel like you have to say yes, if you have someplace you need to be -"

"The only place that I need to be is right here." He interrupts, his voice soft and silky.

A blush claims my cheeks and I manage to choke out a, "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Once inside, he starts up the cheap coffee machine, and I finish up with the stack of neglected dishes that has been piling up. It all feels a bit domestic, but it's rather comforting.

"You could really use a new coffee machine." Tobias points out, after I direct him as to where he could find the mugs.

"Yeah? Maybe I could buy that with my golden credit card. And maybe a mansion while I'm at it." I retort, sarcasm clinging to my words.

"Sorry.. I didn't mean to seem insensitive. I was just thinking out loud - perhaps it could be a Christmas present?"

"I don't do Christmas," I state, coldly. "Not anymore."

"Me either. At least, not as religiously as I used to. As a kid, it consisted of my parents arguing, and me hiding in my room. And as an adult, it was the Nita show - demanding all of these expensive and elaborate gifts, and making a huge charade of opening them up. Christmas has never been a nice holiday for me." He shrugs.

"It was great, once," I tell him. "When mom was ok, and dad was still alive, I mean. Christmas in my childhood were some of the best days of my life."

Back then, Christmas was always an extravagant affair - piles of presents, corny music blasting out from the stereo, a Christmas movie playing on the television, and heaping amounts of food. When mom was well, Christmas lunch was a feast, to be frank; golden turkey, onion gravy, roasted potatoes and perfect vegetables. We used to do our own deserts too, as well as a big iced cake and cupcakes.

In those days, the Christmas tree was always real - it smelt of pine needles and dark forests, and we would drape it in tinsel and cotton-wool snow and bright, tiny baubles from the box in the attic.

This year - same as the year before - we have no decorations in sight. _I_ have none.

"When I was sixteen, Christmas was the worst ever; my mother had one of her come-and-go boyfriend's over, and this one in particular didn't like me much," Tobias says. "He basically kicked me out of the house on my ass so that they could have sex, and my mother didn't do anything to stop him. That year, my Christmas lunch consisted of turkey sandwiches in the nearest gas station - the best I'd ever had, don't get me wrong."

"You had it real tough, I'm astounded that you have turned out the way you have." I say, quietly, shaking my head.

"What do you mean?" He wants to know, confused.

"Well," I clear my throat, embarrassed. "Most kids who had it as awful as you did, will have turned into criminals, alcoholics and drug addicts, most likely. I've seen it happen to a few kids around here. But not you. You've done so well for yourself, and.. you are a good person too. I hope you know that."

A pink flush creeps up his neck, and he looks down at the coffee. "I would not go as far as to say that, by all means. I have done well because of what I was born into. I never made that money, I inherited it."

"Similarly, people who are born into such money, may be snobby and unkind - much like Nita. Again, that isn't you."

"Thank you," he says, gently. "Thank you for saying that, for thinking that. Not many people have said those kind of things to me; I have been labelled as worthless, useless and pathetic, but never a good person."

"Well, it's what you deserve to here." I insist, honestly.

"Just so you know, you are just as good a person," Tobias assures me. "You have always been the one to put me in my place when neccesary, but at the same time, you make me feel.. well, special, I guess. I like to spend time with you, both in and out of the workplace. So consider yourself fortunate - I do not usually enjoy company, unless it is Zeke. And sometimes, even then, I feel as if I need a break. But it is different with you."

It is then that I notice how little space there is between us, and a huge part of me is begging to close it, and press my lips to his. It's dangerously tempting, and I bite down on my lip, trying to hold back. What is wrong with me?

"Tobias," I whisper. "About what happened in the libary, before Christina came in.."

"I remember." He answers, his minty breath warm on my cheek.

"Did you - I mean, were you going to kiss me? Or was I just making that up?"

Instead of giving me an answer, his hand cups my chin in warmth, and tilts my face up, fitting his mouth to mine. His lips are warm and soft and sweet, and euphoria envelopes me in an embrace that is almost as good as his.

His hand moves from my hair, to my neck, and then down to my shoulders.. I gasp into his open mouth, and he moans. _Moans_. I had no idea that such a sensation could go through me like that, lightening travelling through my skin and nerves. His hands stop where they are, at my waist.

Coming up for air, he presses his forehead against mine, and we share the same air, silent and breathing heavily.

"That was.. just.. wow." He sighs, smiling. "Yeah, that was definitely something."

"Maybe this isn't smart.."

"Oh, I can promise you that this isn't smart," he confirms, his nose slipping over mine. "But who cares about logical? This is right, and I know that you feel it too. If not, then I'll walk away right now, and we can pretend that this never happened. But Tris, is that really - _truly_ \- what you want?"

"I don't know what this is yet, but I do know that I want you." I answer, breathless.

And with that, our lips meet once more, and everything seems to fit together. A perfect moment of quiet.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **I'm back! I haven't updated for a while as I've been pretty busy, so I decided to make this chapter as good as I could for y'all. Hence the kiss! FINALLY! Excited to see your reactions, hope I executed it well and I didn't disappoint.**

 **I know most of you will be upset about Tris' mom, but it has been in my initial story plot since the beginning, and hopefully you will begin to see how it ties in with the future storyline.**

 **Ill try and update as soon as I can, but I really hoped you enjoyed!**

 **\- GuiltyMind :D**


	16. Chapter 16

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 16 {Tobias' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

Nita's need to consistently host social events was in no way bearable, but compared to my mother, she demonstrated what would be labelled as introverted behaviour.

My mother feeds from the company of others, and finds pleasure in flaunting her expensive possessions to a crowd of weak-minded guests. Being her son, she insists on my presence at each one, no excuses.

I was sure that she would be opposed to my showing, in light of recent events. However, because Mr Pablos was merciful enough to let me keep my job, she believes that I am still mildly successful, and will be able to contribute to business-related conversations with ease.

Consequently, I am spending my Christmas Eve in a pricey, yet uncomfortable suit, surrounded by people that irritate the hell out of me.

Not my ideal plans, of course. Zeke stands beside me, sipping on a flute of champagne - which he discreetly spiked with vodka - looking as discontented as I feel.

I was surprised to find that he was on the guest list; he has never clicked with my mother in a positive way, nor has his mother. But considering that Hanna is a part of the board at the Country Club, her invite was neccesary to obtain a civil relationship. And that invite extended to both Zeke and Uriah too, whom is across the room, flirting with a tall brunette.

Nita is here too, floating around like the social butterfly I have always known her to be. She keeps her distance, and I am glad - the bad blood between us is not going to purify any time soon, and I would not like to lose my temper at such a public event.

"This sucks," Zeke huffs. "My buddy over in the city was throwing a major party tonight, to which I was invited to, but for some reason, I have ended up here instead of getting shit-faced and finding a hot chick to nail."

"There is still hope. See that girl over there? The one in the black? She's been eyeing you up for a good twenty minutes." I inform him, nodding my head in the direction of a pretty, strawberry blonde girl.

"Yeah?" Zeke smirks, straightening his tie. "She is pretty hot. Do you recognise her?"

"Vaguely.. I think her parents are members of the Country Club, I think I saw her there once."

"Well, seeing as I missed out on a wild night out, perhaps I should take a chance on another source of pleasure." He grins, wickedly, before flushing the rest of his champagne/vodka duet down his throat. "Wish me luck."

"Make good choices.." I tail off, watching him advance to the girl, who straightens up when she notices him approaching.

Suddenly, my attention is drawn away from the scene unfolding, as someone knocks right into me. I manage to steady myself before I fall straight on my ass, and get a look at the individual who collided into my side.

A young woman - around my age, I would guess - is busy righting herself and straightening her dress. She has fiery ginger hair, that falls stylishly to her shoulders. Her skin is pale, and her eyes are wide and chocolatey.

"I am so sorry," she exclaims, looking at me, apologetically. "I can be so careless! Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am fine. Don't worry about it, accidents happen. I am Tobias Eaton, and you are?"

"Lavender," she answers. "Lavender Dawson; I believe that my father works alongside your mother on the board. I have heard a lot about you."

"You have?" I question, my eyebrows drawing together. "From whom, might I ask?"

"Your mother, of course. Evelyn thinks very highly of you, Tobias. She told my father and I about the seperation between yourself and Nita Pablos." Lavender replies, lowering her voice slightly, when mentioning Nita. "I never did like her much.. and besides, you seem like a nice man; you could do with a woman who treats you as equal."

"You seem to know a lot about my past relationship," I point out, suspicious. "How much did my mother tell you exactly?"

Before Lavender can supply me with an answer, my mother sashays over, beaming. She is dressed to impress tonight, by all means - her pearls hang at her neck, and diamonds hang from her earlobes, glittering in the light.

"Tobias," she greets. "I see that you have become acquainted with Miss Dawson. Her father is a very successful member of the board, I am not sure that I have mentioned him to you before."

"Not to my knowledge. However, it would seem that Miss Dawson knows more about me than I know about myself. And that would be down to you, would it not, mother?" I reply, my eyes burning into hers, angrily.

"Lavender herself is recently single, and I figured that sharing your experience would help her to feel better," she answers sweetly, smiling towards the young woman beside me. "And perhaps your similar experiences could give you something in common."

"Yes, it might just." Lavender smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, with a seductive kind of look in her dark eyes.

"Half of this room has probably gone through a break up," I say, raising an eyebrow. "So that would mean that I shall have a lot in common with those people too, by that logic."

"It would seem so." Mother says, through gritted teeth, watching me with warning playing in her eyes.

"Tobias, would you care to dance?" Lavender asks, suddenly, gesturing towards the cluster of couples, slow dancing to a slow song, played on the grand piano by a musician in the corner.

I really do not want to dance with this woman, but I cannot bring myself to turn her down; not with my mother breathing down my neck, and the fact that she is fresh from a break up. Rejection may be hard to take right now, so I had better comply. It is just the one dance, I guess.

"Sure, though I must warn you about my two left feet. I haven't much practice with dancing, as such." I reluctantly agree, extending my arm to her. Tucking her hand into the crook of my elbow, she leads me to the middle of the grand room, where the dancing is taking place.

I place my hands in the correct positions for a waltz, and make sure to keep her a little past arms length; although I am giving her the one dance, I do not want to give her the wrong impression.

"For this to work, we may have to get closer." She points out, frowning in disapproval at the distance.

"On the contrary, I think this is great, just the way it is," I say, stiffly. "After all, this is just a friendly dance."

"A friendly dance," she echoes, and I notice the shine of disappointment in her eyes. "Of course. However, your mother mentioned that you were looking for a woman to assist you in getting back to your feet. Do I not meet the criteria for that woman?"

"Oh, Lavender," I swallow, the air surrounding us becoming severely awkward. "My mother has a tendency to fabricate the truth; in all honesty, I am not looking for a relationship at the moment. Well, not with anyone but one girl."

"There is a girl? Tobias, I do apologise. I had no idea.. is your mother aware of this woman in your life? If not, I do encourage that you let her know, otherwise she may not be so discreet when initiating in her matchmaking."

"I do wish it were that easy," I sigh, shaking my head. "My mother would not approve of my feelings for this woman, and would do everything she could to keep me away."

"Who is this girl, public enemy number one?" She jokes. "But seriously, if you care for this mystery girl - no matter what anyone thinks - then you have to hold on to her."

"I am sorry to be talking to you about this, considering..."

"No matter," she insists. "With respect, you are not the only fish in the sea."

"Indeed." I chuckle, continuing to take the lead in our waltz.

I notice that Zeke and the strawberry blonde are dancing too, very close, I might add. I am glad he seems to be enjoying himself, though.

I find myself wishing that it was Tris that I am dancing with; in that case, I would pull her close and whisper sweet things into her ear, dancing through song after song, never getting tired.

I have not been able to see her since that day of the funeral - since I kissed her. Her absence stings, and I just cannot seem to stop thinking about that woman. I sound crazy, but there is just something about her.. like every time we are together, I have to fight to catch my breath.

I have never experienced these kind of feelings before, and it is both exhilarating and terrifying. Everything about Tris is compelling - her wide, stormy eyes, soft lips, her little tight body.. fuck, I need to see her, as soon as possible.

The music changes from a slow melody, to something more upbeat, and I release Lavender to take a step back, rubbing the back of my neck, awkwardly.

"Thanks for the dance," she says, smiling, though it seems a little forced. "I would say that we should do it again sometime, but that does not seem very likely, as odds wise go."

Before I can form a response, Zeke has grabbed me by the arm, and is leading me back towards the bar.

"Ok, who was that? And why were you dancing with her?" He demands to know. "I thought you had a thing for Tris? The maid? Is that not happening nowadays?"

"My mother has been matchmaking, it would seem. Lavender over there asked me for a dance, and with her standing right behind me, how could I deny her? Trust me, she is not my type, anyhow." I tell him.

"So, there _is_ something with you and Tris?" He asks, smiling a little. "I knew it! Honestly, I thought you had blown it big time when you threatened to fire her that one time-"

"Ok, I do not need that reminder, thank you very much. I already feel awful for the way I treated her that day. She deserves so much more than that.. she should be treated in the best possible way, Zeke."

"Damn, you are in deep, brother," he states, shaking his head in what seems to be disbelief. "I have never seen you like this; not with any girl. She must be pretty special, huh?"

"Yes," I reply, unable to suppress my small grin. "Pretty special.. I guess that is one way of putting it. But seriously, Tris is my main focus right now, but you know my mother - if she found out about Tris and where she comes from, and what position she holds in my home, she would totally lose it. But if I do not tell her, and keep it to myself, she may continue to set me up with all these women."

"And you are asking me for advice because?" He questions, raising both eyebrows. "I mean, I haven't been able to keep a girlfriend since the second grade."

"I have no one else to go to. You are the only one who knows about her, or at least, about my feelings for her." I explain, rolling my eyes.

"I think you have a shadow." He whispers, nodding to something over my shoulder. Turning, I spot my mother at the open intricate glass doors, that lead into the entrance hall to the house. She is narrowing her eyes at me, her body language giving off waves of tension.

"I think I should go and deal with that, and hopefully set the record straight," I sigh, looking back to my friend. "My guess is that it will not end well, and I shall end up leaving.. will you be ok?"

"Yeah, I'm sure I will cope - Shauna will keep me company, anyhow." He assures me, grinning at the girl he was dancing around with earlier, who is retrieving a glass of champagne from a waiter.

"Ok, well have a good Christmas. Don't be a stranger, make sure to call in at some point before New Years - Hanna and Uriah too." I remind him, extending my hand for a shake, to which he complies with, smiling.

"Oh, and Tobias," he says, stopping me before I can leave. "Stop dragging it out, already - go and get your girl, and fuck anybody who tells you the opposite. I don't know her very well - at all, really - but even I am intelligent enough to know that a girl like that doesn't just come around every now and again."

"I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Zeke." I can't help but grin at my best friend, who raises his glass in a small, private toast, accompanied by a suggestive wink.

I approach my mother, who straightens up when she sees me, her lips pursing together tightly, as if she has tasted something sour.

"Can I have a moment of your time?" I ask, feigning politeness, gesturing towards the empty hallway, where we could have a conversation without any chance of any curious guests eavesdropping. I follow her out into the hall, and carefully shut the doors behind us, for an extra source of security.

"What the hell are you up to?" I hiss, turning to face her. "How dare you talk to Lavender about Nita and I, it has nothing to do with her - nor does it have anything to do with you!"

"Lavender is a nice, beautiful girl, from a respected family! I am trying to safeguard your future, Tobias; you cannot expect to just fall into your next relationship, there are paths to follow."

"Mother, I am not looking for a relationship," I tell her - which isn't exactly a lie, because I already have a potential girl in the wings. And if anyone is going to become infatuated with me, it will be Tris. "I want to spend some time alone. I certainly do not need you setting me up with women who you believe to be a 'good fit'. I am a grown man, and can make my own decisions, and control my own future."

"You could not even keep a woman interested for enough time to get married to her!" She snaps. "No wonder Nita went out in search of another man, you clearly did not have the initiative it took to be with someone like her."

"I guess not, but let me tell you one thing - Nita's betrayal was the best thing that ever happened to me. She stabbed me in the back, and opened a window of opportunity at the same time; the chance to be free, to live my life for myself. But you would know nothing about that, because you have no imagination, no will to break free of this suffocating, pointless circle!"

"You have freedom here," she protests. "You could have a life here, if you just applied yourself! You never put in any effort to fit in, to interact with others. Lavender could help you change that, she could show you a better way of life, a way that would benefit everyone -"

"Benefit _you_ , more like. You just want me to parade around as some sort of trophy, just as Nita did. But I am not cutting it anymore, am I? You want more success stories to tell, you want to impress your friends with my achievements. However, I am sorry to disappoint; I am done with the charades you like to play. When you want me for a son, and not a possession to flaunt around, you know where to find me. Until then, stay away from me." I spit out, furious.

"What is this truly about? Lavender? If she is not your type, then I can do a little digging - I am sure that the Jenson's have a daughter in Harvard.."

"Did you not hear anything that I just said?" I exclaim. "I do not want any help from you, especially not with women! And besides.. there is already someone."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I instantly regret them. I have just provoked a full-out shit storm, with me drowning in the center. And by the way my mother's eyes light up, and her eyebrows raise in surprise, she has not let my confession go amiss.

"There is?" She asks, taken aback. "Well, why didn't you say so? What is her name, and what family line does she come from?"

"It is none of your concern, we are not exclusive as of right now, but there is definitely something there. Which would mean that your matchmaking services are unnecessary, after all." I answer, swiftly, cursing at myself internally; why did I have to bring Tris into this?

"Tobias -"

" _No_. I will not let you ruin this for me too. You have always pushed me into things that I have not been ready for, and know exactly what you are doing. I have had enough now, and the girl in question means a lot to me. You will not approve of us, though, but this time, you are not taking anything away from me. Not her." I insist, my voice low and dangerous.

"I am your mother," she declares loudly, outraged. "How dare you speak to me in such a disrespectful manner? After all that we have been through, what I have been through. You have the audacity to address me in that way?"

Angrily, I turn on my heels and head for the coat rack that sits beside the front door, and rifle through the various selection, until I find my own. Slipping my arms into it, I button it all the way up to my chin, bracing myself for the cold outside.

But before I can even reach for the handle, a hand grips my arm, and holds me back.

"You are leaving?" Lavender asks, concerned. "We were planning to stay until the strike of midnight, and celebrate the first few moments of Christmas with one another.."

"I have someplace that I have to be. Drink a glass of something strong for me, though." I answer, steadily, shrugging off her hand.

I open up the door and slam it behind me, heading for my car, steam floating out from my ears. I get behind the wheel, and turn up the heating system, as well as the seat warmers. My keys are clutched in my hand, but I do not make a move to act with them just yet.

The digital clock reads _11:28_ , and the only light source outside of my car is the gold glow coming from my mother's full house.

I rest my head against the wheel, and take a couple of deep, steadying breaths. I should head home, maybe drown my troubles in a few drinks, enough to get me through the night. However, that does not sound as appealing as it would have before.

I do not want to be in the company of a numbing substance, but a person who would make the pain fade in the best way, without being intoxicated.

And there is only one person who is capable of such a thing.

Fumbling with my keys, I get the car started up, and back out of the carefully constructed, lengthy driveway. The roads are silent, unsurprisingly, with it being so late into Christmas Eve, and considering the small town we are dwelling in.

I am careful not to slip a tyre on the ice, nor the recent snowfall. Leaving my house this evening to attend the party, I discovered a world of white outside of my front door.

Even in the dark, I am able to locate her neighbourhood, as well as her street. I pull up into her empty driveway, and turn off the engine.

I hesitate before getting out - it is incredibly rude of me, to just show up like this. But a part of me is aware that although I need the company, she needs it more, especially on a holiday like this. So I doubt she will mind my spontaneous visit, even with regards to the time.

I knock at the front door, gently enough as not to scare her, but loud enough to wake her if she is sleeping. The door opens a minute later, and a sleepy-looking Tris comes into view, a knife clasped in her hand. Her shoulders sag in relief as she recognises me, and lowers the knife.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, frowning. "D'you know what time it is? What, are you nocturnal or something?"

"Perhaps.. I could ask you the same thing, knife girl, you got to the door awfully quick, so were you sleeping?" I retort, leaning against the door frame, smiling.

"Touché." she grins. "But seriously, why are you over here this late?"

"Would you like to go for a walk?" I ask, raising an eyebrow in question. I expect her to laugh, or to swat at me playfully and call me crazy, but she just shrugs and nods her head.

"But let me grab my coat first, and some shoes." She reasons, gesturing to her bare feet.

I step inside and close the door behind us, as she dashes upstairs to grab her socks. Then she's back, her feet snuggled into a pair of fluffy bed socks, and she's grabbing at her coat, huddling into it.

"Lead the way." She says, throwing the door open and letting me walk out first. After she locks up and stuffs the key under a wilting potted plant towards the side of the porch, I extend my arm to her, and she happily slips hers in mine, and I lead her on to the snow-covered sidewalk.

"So, where to?" She asks, looking up at me with undisguised amusement.

"Where is a good place to sit around these parts?" I fire back. "Is there some kind of 24hour bar?"

"Not quite. But there is the old park not far from here. A little different from a warm, indoor setting, but it's the best we got, I'm afraid."

"A park, huh?" I chuckle. "Well, I haven't been to one of those for a very long time. Why not, let's take a trip down memory lane."

"Don't get your hopes up, it's just a couple of beat-up swings and a crappy seesaw." Tris nudges me with her shoulder, smiling teasingly. "So, would you like to tell me why you have dragged me out into the snow in the middle of the night, on Christmas Eve?"

"I just came from my mother's annual Christmas Eve bash.. it was not the event of the year, for me, at least." I sigh, ducking my head to watch my feet shuffle through the snow.

Her arm slips out of mine, and after a few seconds, her fingers melt into mine, and I hold them tightly, savouring the warmth from her small hand.

"That bad, eh?" She asks, softly.

"You have no idea," I mutter. "At least Zeke seemed to be having fun, he met this girl. He seemed head over heels already."

"Want to tell me what happened?" She pushes, gently, not putting on any pressure. "You seem.. _different_. I don't know, there is just something about you that seems kind of - well, I'm not quite sure."

"My mother.. she attempted to set me up with a girl; Lavender, her name was. And we got in a fight about it." I tell her, truthfully. I want no secrets between us.

Her hand tightens in mine, but she makes no effort to pull it back, which is a good sign. I am not sure about how she feels about the two of us, or if she has even thought about that kiss. I cannot just assume she reciprocates my feelings, just because of one - _a few_ \- kisses. Things can change in a matter of days, so I need to prepare myself for the worst.

"Yeah?" She finally says, her voice strained. "Because you didn't like that your mother meddled? Or that you didn't like the girl she set you up with?"

"Both. I told my mother that I was not interested in Lavender, or anyone that she was to further attempt to set me up with. I made that very clear to her, at least. Though, whether she actually listened is a whole other thing."

"What was wrong with her?" She wants to know. "If there was anything, I mean. Or did you just turn her down to make a stand against your mom?"

"Neither. I did not want her because.. well, because.." I stammer, nervously.

"Because?" She prompts, softly.

"Oh, hey look, we are at the park!" I say, quickly, changing the subject. I half expect her to drag me back into it, and demand to know the reason, but she just allows me to lead her to the park, staying quiet.

I clear the snow from the seats of the swings with my sleeve, and we sit, rocking slightly.

"We used to come here all the time, me and my brother, I mean," she says, disrupting the silence that had infiltrated the air around us. "He was a couple years older than me, so he would take me when my parents were busy. He would push me on these swings, and told me that if I went high enough, that I would be able to fly. I wish that were true."

"You have a brother?" I ask, surprised; I don't recall ever hearing about him.

"Yeah.. but I don't talk about him much, anymore," she admits, ducking her head. "When dad died, he came back from college for the funeral, but then completely dumped us in the gutter - even when I told him about the state mom was in, he insisted that he wanted no part in our family, because it was no longer a real family in his eyes. So he went back to college, and I haven't heard from him since."

"Not at all? What about holidays? Thanksgiving?"

"Nothing. If it weren't for pictures and stuff, it'd be like he never even existed. I should have been pissed, right? But back then, there was always a huge part of me that just ached for him to get his ass back home." She tells me, flatly.

"And now?" I ask, curious. "How do you feel about the whole ordeal nowadays?"

"I don't feel, I just push the whole thing out of my mind. What am I supposed to do? Sit around and cry, hoping that he'll just come back? Life doesn't just work that way."

"I do not blame you for harbouring that way of thinking," I shrug. "And you are right - you cannot just wish for things, and expect them to just happen. Do you think he ever will come back?"

"He had better not," she mutters, darkly, kicking out at the snow. "Because if he did, I'd kill him myself."

"Do you honestly mean that?" I ask, knowingly, my voice gentle.

"Yes," she says certainly, but then her voice wavers. "No. Oh, I don't know! You're probably thinking about what a horrible person I am, to hate my own brother, the only real family I have that are still alive. But it is too hard to look past all that he has done, and look around you - he still isn't here. I don't owe him anything, and he definitely doesn't deserve any type of forgiveness from me."

"No, that is not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was that I am sitting here with a woman who has been through hell and back, and is _still_ here. So what if your brother is not? You have gotten by all on your own, it seems to me that you do not need him." I reach out and take her hand, smiling in assurance.

"Enough about me," she shakes her head, and even through the darkness, I can see a splash of pink on her cheeks. "Feel free to push me off this swing for bringing it up, but what were you going to say earlier? The reason why you didn't want to be matched with one of your mom's bachelorettes, I mean."

"Well, there is only room for one woman in my life.. and that spot - from my side of things - has already been taken." I confess, looking straight into her steely grey eyes.

"You don't mean.." she trails off, not as if she is opposed to the idea, but like she cannot believe her ears.

"Tris, I have known for a while now, that my feelings for you stretched past the ' _just friends_ ' mark," I express, taking both of her freezing hands in my own. "I began to realise that I was thinking about you more and more, and then I started to wonder how long you had been on my mind. Then it occurred to me: since the day that I met you, you have never left. I have spent my entire life longing for something that would help me find my way, to prevent me from feeling so lost, and that something is you - when I am with you, as cheesy as it may sound, everything seems to fall into place. I need you to know that I really do care for you, even if you do not reciprocate those feelings."

"Tobias.. how could you think that?" She asks, and I can hear my heart beating in my ears. Getting up from the swing, I force a small laugh to brush off the rejection, which is slowly tearing at my heart.

"Yes, of course. How could I ever think that you would see me in such a way?" I say, attempting to keep it light, backing away from where she still sits on her swing, looking ultimately bewildered. "We should just forget about what just happened.. you get on with your job, and I will keep my feelings in check-"

"No, that came out totally wrong!" She exclaims, rising from her swing also. "What I meant was - well, how could you possibly think that I wouldn't feel the same about you? I've never been the best at telling someone how I feel, so I apologise if I suck at this.. whatever this is."

My shoulders drop in relief, and all tension leaves my body, my heart beating at a normal rate once more. Before I can comprehend the situation, she crashes into me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

She burrows her head into my shoulder, and I hold her close, slipping my own arms around her small frame. Her hair smells like raspberry shampoo and coffee, an odd combination, but a delicious one. In the distance, the church bells ring, pulsating through the air, signalling the strike of the hour.

I take her by the shoulders, and gently pull her away from me, enough to see her face. Her cheeks are flushed with the cold, and her eyes are bright and excited. Beautiful.

Then I kiss her, and it is like the world has fallen away. It is soft and comforting, in the way that words just never could be. My hand moves to rest under her ear, my thumb tenderly brushing her cool cheek. This kiss is slower than the last, much more intimate.

Stood in the middle of an abandoned playground, the clock striking, snow crunching under our shoes, it seems that everything is still, and that it is just us in a world of our very own.

Coming up for air, she rests her head against my chest, pulling her body right up on mine, sharing her body heat. My arms circle around her, keeping her as close as possible.

Leaning down to put my lips next to her ear, I whisper, "Merry Christmas, baby."

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Yay a new chapter! I worked super hard on this, so I hope you guys enjoy it :)**

 **I've had so many positive reviews and PM's from all of my readers, and I read and appreciate every single one. I can't believe I'm only 16 chapters in and I'm nearing on 300 reviews! And yes, there will be some lemons coming up soon - for all of you who asked!**

 **Hope you enjoy, and I'll make sure to upload soon :)**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	17. Chapter 17

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 17 {Tris' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

"Are you sure you wanna' stay?" I ask, nibbling on my thumbnail. "It's not that I don't want you here, but I thought you'd want to go make it up with your mother? Christmas is a _family_ holiday, y'know."

"Going back is not a good idea. Thank you for your concern, but trying to make amends with my mother isn't something that I want. I am truly tired of her controlling actions." Tobias answers, running a hand across his face.

"As long as you're sure. But all the same, don't feel obligated to stay -"

"Tris," he interrupts, his brows furrowed. "What's really on your mind? Is this about my family? Or is this about you not wanting me here with you? I would understand if you wanted me to go home.."

"It's stupid - but you shouldn't have to spend time here," I kick at the floor, frowning. "When you've got a much better place than I do. It's embarrassing, I guess."

"I love your house. It is just so full of you, and your family. It feels like a real home."

"It used to be," I correct him, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Now it just feels.. empty. Lonely, even. Especially around this time of year; it used to be so festive and welcoming. Music, chatting, laughing.. and now there's only me and the silence."

"It must be hard for you, this being your first Christmas without her." He says, softly, watching me with those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

"It's not easy. But it's not as painful as I expected - I didn't really lose her when she died, she'd already gone. Everything that made her my mom melted away when dad passed. So technically, I lost her quite a long time ago."

"It is rather sad when people you know, become people you knew," Tobias agrees, pulling a hand through his hair, dejectedly. "I guess we just have to appreciate what we have, before time makes us appreciate what we had."

My eyes lock on his then, and practically everything melts away; a warm feeling captures my body and a smile pulls at my lips, unable to suppress itself. Just simply being with this man provides new and extraordinary feelings, ones that I myself have never imagined to even be possible.

"I'm glad you're here," I tell him, my voice gentle. "Even if it's not in a very welcoming environment."

"Stop saying that. My house is not as amazing as you perceive it to be - it is just as lonely as yours may feel." He protests, shaking his head at my words.

Glancing at the clock, I swallow thickly and flit my eyes back to Tobias, who is playing with the hem of his dress shirt, absently.

"We should probably hit the hay, it's getting real late.. unless you want to stick it out for a few more hours?" I speak up, after clearing my throat.

"Sleep sounds grand," he agrees through a small yawn. "So.. how are we doing this? I can take the couch if you want-"

"I'm not letting you sleep on that lumpy old couch, you can share my bed, if you'd like..." I suggest, shyly, and I can feel my cheeks burning.

"Are you sure? I am perfectly fine with sleeping down here if it would make you in any way uncomfortable." He checks, seemingly concerned.

"Well that's very sweet of you, but I wouldn't have offered if I felt uncomfortable." I assure him, smiling a little.

"Then lead the way." Tobias gestures towards the door, mirroring my shy smile. I step forward from the counter and head for the hallway, with him following behind.

This would be the first time he had ever come upstairs, ever seen my bedroom. I've never had a boy up there before, not even in high school; not unless you count a play date with Timmy Bridge in the second grade, which I definitely don't.

I nudge open the creaky door with my foot, and step inside, my insides churning. He takes a moment or two to look around, taking the sight in - not that there's much to see. Just a closet and a simple chest of drawers, as well as my narrow bed and the small table beside it. No posters, no school books littered around, no pictures of my friends pinned to my wall. I binned all of that a few months ago.

His eyes fall upon the framed picture that sits on my bedside table, the shot of the four of us at The Bean in Chicago. A soft kind of look graces his features then, and he reaches for the wooden frame, cradling it carefully in his hands as he takes a closer look.

"This is in Chicago, right?" He asks, briefly glancing over at me. "I vaguely remember visiting that very structure with my school, we were writing a paper on the architect who built it - Anish Kapoor, I believe it was he who built the Cloud Gate."

"Caleb and I called it The Bean, cos' of its funny shape, see?" I point out the general shape with my fingertip.

"Yes, I can see why you would nickname it that," he chuckles. "Zeke thought it was dull, but I couldn't disagree more. It is a landmark of the ages! Kapoor was a genius."

"My dad thought so too, he was always into that kind of stuff. He wanted to visit the most famous of them all - Sydney Opera House, the Taj Mahal, the Leaning Tower of Pisa... but he never got to see it all."

"Maybe you could go and see it for him," Tobias suggests, setting the picture frame back down. "Like you said, he never got to see it all, so it wouldn't it be fantastic if you could see it for yourself, in his place?"

"It would be amazing," I agree, sitting down on the edge of my bed, sighing slightly. "But travelling to those places costs money, and if you couldn't already tell by this place and the fact that I'm working as your maid, I don't have a lot of cash hidden away."

"You could always save up. I am not saying go right this second, but having some sort of goal is a healthy way to keep you working hard. Kind of like a motivator of sorts." He explains.

"You really think I could do it?" I ask, looking up at him. "I mean, if I did save all of that money.. you think I'd be able to just drop everything, hop on a plane, and see all of those things?"

"You can do anything you put your mind to. With the savings behind you, what would there be to get in the way? Traveling the world would be a life changing experience, Tris."

"You seem so adventurous when you talk," I point out, tilting my head a little. "So my question is - with all of your money to back you up - why are you still living here in this small, mindless town?"

He sighs, sitting down beside me. "I never got the opportunity to go and see the world; as soon as I left school, I was thrown into work, and I had also met Nita at that point.. I never had the chance I longed for - the chance to escape - but _you_ do, you can do it."

"So what's stopping you now? I mean, Nita has gone, there is nothing to hold you back anymore. Maybe this is the chance you wished for." I suggest, nudging him lightly with my shoulder.

"I have a job, and I have things to deal with here. My mother, for example. If I fled this town for something bigger, something better, it is likely that she would never speak to me again. As much as she infuriates me, I would not like to see a day when she refuses to even acknowledge MY existence." He shrugs. "And besides.. there is other stuff to stay for. Other _people_ , as a matter of fact."

"This is crazy talk," I shake my head, laughing slightly. "I could never go travelling anywhere, not with my luck. Shit always goes wrong, what would make this any different? I always got told how dumb it was to want something much more, something resembling any adventure. But as much as I hate this suckish town, it's where my life is, I don't know anything other than this place. I make sure to never dream too big; I'll only get my heads lost in the clouds."

I watch as he flinches at those last words, and he suddenly reaches out and grabs my shoulders, looking deep into my eyes, his serious look playing on his handsome face.

"Hey, do not ever let somebody tell you that you cannot do something. Not me, not anyone. If you have a dream, you have to protect it. People can't do something themselves, which means they attempt to tell you that you can't do it either," he tells me, earnestly. "If you want something, go and get it. Period."

"Nobody has ever - ever - taken the time to say something like that to me," I whisper, in admitted awe of this man. "Even when my family was in tact, my dreams and hopes would always seem so average next to Caleb. I was never taken seriously. By anyone. By anyone but you."

"It is what you deserve to here, Tris." He murmurs, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, idly.

After savouring that perfect moment for a few more seconds, I get up and go in search of some sweats and an old shirt of Caleb's that Tobias could borrow. I eventually come up with a baggy pair of grey sweatpants, and a long sleeved blue cotton shirt.

He changes in the bathroom, while I switch my damp pyjama bottoms for a pair of Christmas-themed shorts and a black knitted sweater.

Just as I throw my damp clothes into the hamper, Tobias emerges with his formal clothes tucked under his arm, a sheepish smile on his face. Caleb's stuff is only a little small, due to Tobias' height, and muscle mass, but it'll do for the night.

Turning off the light, I blindly make my way over to the bed, and he follows, chuckling slightly. We eventually locate the small bed, and I swallow thickly - how are the two of us going to fit?

"It's going to be a tight squeeze, I'm afraid," I tell him, crawling in first and scooting up as close to the wall as I can, leaving just enough space for Tobias to get in. "What can I say? A small bed for a small girl."

"W-we can always cuddle up a little.. for warmth, of course. It is pretty chilly." He suggests, almost shyly.

His hand presses to the small of my back and helps me to move closer until my body is pressed up against his. Grabbing my leg gently, he encourages me to drape it over his, prompting a more comfortable position. He is warm and strong, and I press closer, resting my head on his chest, sighing in content. He smells like cologne and snow and safety. Just so.. comforting.

"This is nice." He whispers into the darkness, as his hand skims over my hair. I just nuzzle my head into him as a reply, and dare to press a small kiss on his shoulder through the shirt, causing him to slightly shiver under me. Though, whether that was the cold I don't know. But I'm nowhere near to being even slightly cool. My skin is burning, or at least it feels that way.

Under the sheets, the hand that isn't curled around my waist, entwines with mine, and he squeezes my fingers gently. And that's how we fall asleep, hands clasped, breathing in synch, and matching smiles curling at our lips.

 **-o-o-o-**

I'm awoken to the sound of heavy knocking at the door, after what only feels like five minutes being deep in a peaceful slumber.

Taking a quick look at the clock, my eyebrows furrow when I see that it is in fact past lunchtime, and light is streaming in through the window.

Tobias continues to sleep throughout the insistent knocking, his features completely relaxed, making him look so much younger. My fingers brush against his cheek, and I press a small kiss to his nose, before attempting to escape his grasp without waking him.

But as I try to move, he tightens his grip and nuzzles his face into my hair, mumbling incoherently. I try to slip away again, but he only becomes more persistent with his rejection to my movement, and wraps his arms around me further.

"Tobias, there's someone at the door," I whisper. "C'mon, the sooner I go the sooner I can get back."

"Who would be knocking at your door at this time on Christmas Day?" He grumbles, rolling over to let me go, bleary eyed.

Taking advantage of his position, I crawl over him and stand, stretching slightly. Pulling my sweater further down my arms to cover my cold fingers, I step out into the hallway and descend the stairs, rubbing my eyes.

Meanwhile, the knocking has not stopped, which means the perpetrator must be desperate for my attention. I grab the keys and unlock the heavy door, prepare myself for the expected freezing drift of wind, and then swing it open.

My hand freezes on the handle, and my mouth almost falls open with the shock. The person on the other side just stares back, but they are smiling, while all I want to do is scream.

"What the fuck?" I manage to stammer out, my eyes wide, looking the all too familiar stranger up and down. "I-wait-this.. _what the fuck_?!"

"Merry Christmas to you too, sis," Caleb chuckles, shaking the snow out of his hair. "So, are you gonna let me in? It's freezing out here, and you left me knocking for a good five minutes. I had a good mind to just drive away."

"You aren't welcome here, so I suggest you get back in that car of yours and go back to wherever the hell you came from." I hiss, and when he doesn't move, I seem to find my voice. A very loud version of my voice. "Did you hear me right? Get away from this house, and NEVER come back!"

"Tris?" Tobias asks from behind me, as he reaches the foot of the stairs, concern etched onto his face. "What is going on?"

"Who are you?" Caleb asks as Tobias stands behind me, protectively wrapping an arm around my waist. "What are you doing here with my little sister? Where's mom?"

"You don't know?" I ask, my anger subsided for the moment, and is now replaced with confusion. "I just assumed that someone had contacted you.. the hospital maybe-"

"The hospital?" He echoes. "What happened? What did you do to her, Beatrice? I knew you couldn't look after her! You couldn't even do that right, could you?"

"Watch your mouth," Tobias snaps. "You do not just get to waltz up to the front door and start yelling at the girl who stayed behind and risked everything just to take care of someone that you turned your back on -"

"Tobias," I say, softly. "It's ok. I don't care what he thinks, none of if matters anymore."

"WHAT HAPPENED TO MOM?" Caleb suddenly screams out, fury ripping through his voice, shaking me to the core. Tobias straightens up behind me, and I can feel his breathing become heavier - now he's angry too. Caleb's not going to want to be on the other end of that.

"She passed away," I tell him, narrowing my eyes. "She died and you didn't even know, I hope that gives you a good enough indication of what kind of a son you have been. She died, and the only kid who was there to say goodbye was me. And where were you? Living your happy little life at college while I worked three jobs just to keep a roof over our heads."

"So that's both parents gone..." he says, dropping his head. But after a second or two he seems to perk up again. "What's going to happen with the money she left behind?"

"You're not serious?" I laugh, but there's no humour behind it. "I tell you that your mom passed away - without you even knowing about it - and the first thing you ask about is the money? You've got real nerve, Caleb."

"Well, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to burst into tears and apologise dramatically for trusting you to be an adult and care for someone that isn't yourself? Not going to happen, Beatrice -"

"My name is _Tris_ ," I spit. "Not Beatrice, not your 'little sis'. Just _Tris_."

"Ok, _Just Tris_. What's your point here? If you want me to get down on my knees and apologise for something that was your fault, you're going to be royally disappointed." He tells me, angrily.

"This wasn't my fault! How could you expect me to take care of another person - a very ill person, might I add - when I could barely take care of myself?" I shout, fire burning in my bloodstream. "I could have left, just like you did, but I loved mom. And you don't abandon the people you love. I gave up my entire life to take care of her, and you couldn't even be bothered to pay us a visit. So don't you dare stand there and put the blame on me, not this time."

"I don't even know who you are anymore," he yells back, disgusted. "My old sister would have understood that I needed to stay in college, to put myself out there and get the opportunities that I deserved."

"You deserve nothing. And yes, maybe I have changed - Beatrice was an immature girl who cried herself to sleep every night, hoping and praying that you would just come home and rescue me from the nightmare I was living. Tris is the woman that I needed to be, who I truly am. And it was the best transformation in history, let me tell you. Because if the Beatrice you knew was still here, Mom would've been gone a long time ago, and I'd be out on the streets."

"Stop acting like you're the only one who had it tough! I had to balance my education with the grief of losing dad.. I missed out on parties, I almost lost my friends-"

"Poor you," I coo, sarcasm dripping from my tongue. "So what, you missed a few parties. I missed my entire senior year, I was forced to balance three damn jobs, make sure mom was taking her medicine, and I'd stay up all night trying to sort through the gigantic pile of bills that kept growing and growing."

"What do you want, a medal? I know what you had to do in order to eat and to keep living here. But my life isn't as easy as you make it sound like, I have struggles just like everybody else. Stop comparing us, it's not cool." He expresses, his voice as cold as ice.

" _Cool_? You know what wasn't cool? The fact that i had to watch my big brother - the person I looked up to the most when growing up - abandon us completely. Do you have any idea how worthless you made me feel? So let me ask you this, how long did it take until I simply became a memory?"

I only remember that Tobias is stood at the door with me when he presses a quick kiss to the crown of my head, silently reminding me that he is still here, and that I've got him to fall back on.

"I don't even know why I bothered coming here," Caleb scoffs, stepping away. "The first time I show up to celebrate a holiday with you, I get an earful of abuse. You're a real piece of work, y'know."

"Why did you come, out of all the times you could've showed up, why now?" I question, curiously, though fury is still laced into my words.

"My girlfriend broke up with me a few weeks ago, and I was supposed to be spending the holidays with her folks.. but because that wasn't going to happen, I didn't want to spend it alone." He explains, pacing slightly on the icy porch.

"So you thought you could just turn up and everything would be just swell?" I exclaim, genuinely appalled. "Because you got dumped in the gutter, you thought that you would be able to come back to us and feel wanted again? That's not how life works, I'm afraid."

"Whatever," he spits, turning to leave. "This was a waste of time; I always knew you would turn out to be a disappointment. If Dad were here, he would've said the same thing, and you know it."

Losing it completely, I wiggle out of Tobias's arms and charge put into the snow, barefoot, still in my pyjamas. With all my might, I push him with both hands, and he slips on the ice, landing flat on his ass. I lunge at him again, ready to really lay into him, but strong arms pull me back, inhibiting me to do so.

I watch as Caleb scrambles to his feet and dabs at the cut on his eye, blood sticking to his black glove.

"You're no sister of mine," he informs me, his voice shaking slightly, but there is an unmistakable cruel bite still prominent there too. "Mom and Dad would be so disappointed in you, Beatrice. You have torn this family apart - we could have been mature about this, talked it over properly, but you always have to be the volatile bitch that screws with plans, right?"

"Go to hell, Caleb." I scream, as Tobias pulls me back into the house, not letting me go as much as I claw and kick to get free.

Tobias slams the door closed and locks it with trembling hands, his breathing ragged and heaving. I collapse at the foot of the stairs, grinding my teeth and chanting a string of death threats in my head.

"How could he say all of that?" I exclaim, balling my hands up into fists. "How could he pin the blame on me for his mistakes? I didn't make him leave, if was his choice to kick us to the kerb, I had no say in the matter! He left us for dead, and then expects me to welcome him back with open arms? I-I can't just let him - and.. _fuck_ , I don't even know what just happened."

He kneels down in front of me and uncurls my hands, lacing with his fingers with mine gently, a soft look in his eyes.

"Breathe, Tris," he tells me. "He is gone for good, you can let go now. It was not your fault, anything that Caleb did - you can't control another person's actions. You did your best with your mother, and you have made both of your parents so incredibly proud. You have made me proud."

"I waited _so long_ for him to just come home," I whisper. "That was the first time I saw him in just under two years, Tobias.. I wish he had never come back, I wish he had just stayed at his dumb college and never come back to burden me all over again. I had just begun to get over what he did, and then he just shows up a-and.."

One of his hands detangles itself from mine, and slides across my cheek to cradle my face, and I lean into his palm, closing my eyes. I fight to maintain a good breathing pattern, so that I don't risk hyperventilation or deoxygenation, but it proves to be rather difficult.

"Tris, don't you _dare_ let that asshole knock down everything you have worked for, these past few months especially," he tells me, sincerely. "And all of that crap he came out with about you being worthless - I need you to listen to me carefully, and I need you to believe in every word when I tell you that you are worth a hell lot more than you think. You put everything you had into helping out those you cared about, and that is all you could give. I beg of you, do not blame yourself for your brother's selfish choices. It is not your fault. Not one little bit."

"You're still here, clearly I've done something right, at least." I smile, wrapping my arms around his neck and burrowing my head into his shoulder, blinking back the tears - Caleb doesn't deserve to hold that kind of emotional power over me. I'm better than that.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assures me. "Not until you order me away, that is."

"There's just so much pain, and I've always been alone with it all. I've come to depend on myself.. I'm not used to having another person that fits into that kind of category, if that makes any sense." I mumble.

"Come on," he says, suddenly standing and tugging on my hands to join him. "It is Christmas Day, if I remember correctly. And this is the first Christmas that I have had when there is no expectations, no fancy dinners, no uncomfortable and expensive suits.. I intend to spend this day doing the cliche fun things that I never got to experience. We will not let that moron spoil our fun."

"I wasn't exactly prepared for a guest," I admit sheepishly. "But I think I can make us up some hot cocoa, and there's a packet brownie mix somewhere in the back of the cupboards.. and I'm sure we could find a corny Christmas movie on the TV for us to watch."

"That sounds perfect," he grins. "I am not exactly an expert when it comes to any kind of baking, even when it comes from a box, so I apologise in advance for the mess I am about to create."

We spend an hour in the kitchen, dancing around to Christmas music and laughing. I make the hot cocoa in a metal bowl over the stove, just as my Nana would have, and keep an eye on what Tobias is doing to the brownie mix.

Then, after ladelling the rich cocoa into chipped mugs and retrieving the wonky brownies from the oven, we retreat to the living room and curl up on the couch to watch a movie. We end up settling with The Nightmare Before Christmas - one that neither of us had seen before.

I grabbed a blanket prior to us flopping onto the couch, and drape it over us. Tobias keeps his arm around me the entire time, and I snuggle as close to him as I can manage. I am never quite as cuddly, but being close to him gives me this warm feeling deep in my belly that I just can't seem to ignore. He makes me feel things that I never imagined possible - it's quite extraordinary, really.

"I have no family left," I murmur into his shoulder. "No parents, no brother.. what am I supposed to do now? I mean, where do I go from here on out?"

"I can be your family now." He tells me, gently gripping my chin and tilting my face upward.

Our lips meet, and I can taste cocoa and burnt brownie, and just the sweet taste that is Tobias. I don't think I'll ever be able to get enough of this man, or his alluring and talented lips. I sigh against his mouth and deepen the kiss, and I feel his tongue run along my lower lip, causing me to shiver.

And that's how we spend the rest of our day, watching movies, drinking endless mugs of cocoa, and making out. It may have been the most unconventional Christmas, but it was by the far best.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Im back! Sorry for my disappearance, I've just been lacking in creativity right now, but in a sudden burst of it last night, I was able to get it written up for y'all!**

 **I wanted to say a HUGE thank you for 300 reviews, all of which have been incredibly supportive and lovely to read. This story has done so much better than I thought it would, so thank you to every single one of you who takes the time to read what I put out.**

 **To make up for my small break, I made sure to pack this chapter full of drama! I hope you enjoyed and hopefully my next chapter won't take so long.**

 **\- GuiltyMind :D**


	18. Chapter 18

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 18 {Tris' POV}**

 **~New Years Eve~**

 **-o-o-o-**

"Your apartment is real nice," I tell Christina as I help set out red plastic cups on the countertop. "You made it out to be a dark, dreary hole. I'd love a place like this to myself."

"It's not that great," she insists, wrinkling her nose. "And maybe you could get a place out here in the city, with the money that your mom left you? There's a few apartments for sale in this building, in fact.. maybe you should take a look?"

"I don't think so; I grew up in that house, and with everything that's happened, I can't bring myself to just turn my back on it, y'know?" I shrug, chewing on my lower lip.

"Leave the girl alone," Will cuts in, shaking his head. "We're supposed to be prepping for a party, not a meeting with the landlord. And besides, if Tris wants to move, she'll do it in her own time, without any pressure from you."

"I'm just trying to help! God, who pissed in your juice this morning? You're right, we are setting up for a party, so at least try and act like you want to be here." She snaps, before spinning on her heel and slamming her way into the master bedroom.

Will sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry about that; we've been at each other's throats all day. I'm not even sure why - this party isn't going to help the situation either, Chris gets a little agressive once she has alcohol in her system."

"I'll go and check on her. You ok handling the rest out here?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he assures me. "Just try and encourage her to stay off the hardcore drink tonight; it's the last thing she needs."

I give him a small nod before setting down the cups in hand, and heading for the bedroom that Christina disappeared into. I knock softly before slipping inside, making sure to close it behind me. Christina herself is lying on the bed on her back, staring up at the ceiling, a scowl twisting her face.

"Can you believe him?" She exclaims, angrily, sitting up once she becomes aware of my presence in the room. "He keeps snapping at me for no reason; I wasn't pressuring you into anything, was I? I was just suggesting an idea!"

"You're both just stressed about getting everything ready for the party; y'all have been tense all day. Maybe just keep your distance tonight, let it cool off.. and maybe you should think about taking it easy with the drink. It could make it all worse."

"Are you kidding?" She scoffs. "I'm getting shit faced, with Will's approval or not. I have to try and forget about him and just have fun - drinking will make that easier."

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" I reason with her, attempting to be discreet about it. "I mean, what if you two get in an argument? Being drunk isn't going to help that situation, and you could end up saying things you'd regret.."

"So, what? I'm supposed to sacrifice my fun night just because he's got a stick up his butt? I don't think so. I've been looking forward to this for weeks, Tris." She insists.

Realising that she isn't going to budge, I sigh and sit down on the stool at her vanity set; I love her, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I wish she wouldn't be so stubborn.

"Oh, cheer up," Christina pleads, standing from the bed and strutting over to me in her skyscraper stilettos. "Promise me you'll have a good time tonight. Have a drink, mingle, cut loose! You deserve a night to just have fun."

"I don't do parties, as I've told you a hundred times. So don't expect anything more of me than to sit in a corner and refuse to socialise - I find these kind of things wildly awkward." I argue, huffing.

"Oh c'mon! Tonight is the perfect opportunity for you to relax, maybe bag yourself a guy for the night? I mean, you look gorgeous," she says, tugging lightly on the hem of my dress. "And with a confidence boost, you'll have a dozen men knocking each other over just to talk to you."

My cheeks flush scarlet, and I look down at my black sneakers. Not only am I embarrassed by her compliment, but I also feel awful about having to keep my relationship a secret from her. I know it's for the best, but a huge part of me just wants to shout it from the rooftops.

A downside to me not telling Christina is the fact that she has made it her duty to set me up with every guy in range - and every time I have to make up some kind of excuse to escape her matchmaking plans.

"I look like an idiot," I object. "This costume is dumb. Surely we could have found one that is more.. modest. With the length of this thing, I'm going to be flashing every five seconds."

Christina decided that her New Years Eve party had to have some kind of creative twist, which then lead to her insisting that everyone show up in fancy dress. Of course, I had nothing to wear, so she took me shopping this afternoon for a last minute costume.

After arguing over the slutty cop costume, and the way too revealing devil outfit, we finally settled on a pixie costume.

It's a tiny black dress, with a sweetheart neckline and a jagged hem, along with a pair of fluffy white wings. She tried to force me into a pair of heels, but I pursuaded her to let me stick with a pair of simple black sneakers.

Along with picking out the shortest costume she could find, Chris also thought it a good idea to work on my face and hair too, giving me a full out 'makeover'. Admittedly, she did a pretty good job with both areas - my hair falls in perfect, soft curls, and with the power of makeup, has managed to conceal every blemish and the stark black circles that usually lie under my eyes.

Her talents are wasted working as a maid, she could've easily worked as a makeup artist or a hairdresser.

Christina herself has dressed up as Sandy from Grease, post bad girl transformation; she wears a black leather catsuit, and a curly blonde wig, as well as her super high heels. She is sure to attract a lot of attention tonight - whether it be from turned-on guys, or jealous girls.

Slipping her perfectly manicured hand under my chin, she tilts my head back up, smiling genuinely. "Tris, you look hot," she tells me, her smile widening. "You have a great body, what's wrong with showing it off a little? You need to stop putting yourself down all the time; you're by far the prettiest girl I know, absolutely no word of a lie."

"Christina, say you'll be careful tonight. Have a drink if you want, but play it safe. With you and Will at each other's throats, the possibility of you two fighting is much more likely when you have had a few drinks-"

"Enough with the lectures, mom," she giggles, pulling me up from the comfy stool. "But ok, I won't overdo it on the drink, if it's going to worry you so much. But in return, I want you to have some fun and just relax. You work so hard all the time, just stop and _breathe_."

"Deal." I concede, smiling a little.

She loops her arm in mine and we leave the bedroom, to find Will welcoming the first of the guests in - two guys dressed as vampires bearing a few cases of beer, and a girl as the Bride of Chucky.

As more and more people begin to filter into the small apartment, the sound system is kicked into motion, and an old Kanye West song fills the space. A game of beer pong is taking place over in the corner, and a group of girls dressed up as Disney Princesses are dancing in the middle of the room, laughing and drinking.

Christina has carted me around with her for a while, introducing me to her friends, and I begin to feel like some kind of pet. Before she can drag me over to another couple of people, I make the excuse of needing the bathroom, and she finally releases me.

Making a dash for the bathroom, I lock the door behind me and sit on the edge of the closed toilet lid.

Why did I let her talk me into coming? I haven't been to a party since my Junior Year in high school - I'm just not cut out for it, anymore. There was a time where I was the life of the party; in fact, it wasn't even a party until I arrived. But that time has passed, I grew up. And I grew out of partying so hard. Now I just find it awkward to be in such a loud, crowded place.

I stand and straighten out my dress, taking a deep breath in. I can do this, I just need to smile and seem like I'm enjoying myself.

Leaving the bathroom, I make my way into the kitchen to pour myself a drink - one that bears little alcohol - and find Christina pounding back shots of what looks like vodka, with a girl in a Red Riding Hood costume.

 _So much for taking it easy on the drinks_ , I think to myself, bitterly.

I manage to track down some lemonade, and pour that into a cup, ignoring the odd looks I receive for neglecting the spirits set out on the counter.

Holding my drink tightly, I weave my way out of the kitchen, and into the living room; the place is packed, and I'm sure that at least twenty more people showed up in the time that I was in the bathroom.

" _Damn_ ," a guy hollers from within a group, smirking as he looks me up and down. "That's a hot piece of ass. Why don't you come over here and we can show you a good time, eh?"

"Oh, cut it out, Drew," a girl snaps as she comes to stand at my side. "You're a good example of why some animals eat their young. Leave the girl alone, would ya?"

She takes my wrist lightly and guides me to the couch, on the other side of the room, practically shoving her way past people. Now, I get a good look at her - she's in some cute lifeguard costume, and her curls are dyed a deep purple colour. Very pretty, of course.

"I'm Rita," she beams, sitting down and motioning for me to do the same beside her. "And you are? I mean, I don't think I have seen you at any of these parties before, and there have been plenty."

"I'm Tris. I met Christina a few months back when I got a job where she works." I answer, politely.

"Christina has never really liked me much," Rita admits, shaking her head. "Will and I used to date, but we broke up a few months before she met him. Will and I stayed friends, and she didn't seem to like that very much."

"She's a great girl, really. She can be a little much sometimes, but she's a good friend, none the less." I assure her, chewing on my lip.

"I'm sure she is. I just wish we could become friends," she adds. "But why are we talking about such depressing shit? This is a party! Want another drink? Y'know, one with actual alcohol in it?"

"I'm good with just lemonade, but thanks." I decline, as kindly as I can.

"You're that kind of girl, huh?" She smiles. "I can see it in you - you work hard, never have time for partying or drinking, in fact you don't even like to go to parties, because you find them awkward and embarrassing. And I'm willing to bet that costume wasn't your choice; someone forced you into it, right?"

"That was, er, surprisingly accurate.. what are you, some kind of soul reader?"

"Not quite," Rita laughs, nudging me with her shoulder. "But I could tell by the way you act; like when Drew was hollering over at you, you looked like you wanted to crawl under a hole and die. Whereas the girls who party a lot are more used to comments like that, especially coming from Drew and his moron friends. And even now as you sit here, you keep blinking fast, and your fingers are tapping against your cup."

"You're pretty observant. What do you do for a living? A detective or a cop?" I ask, smiling a little, genuinely intrigued by her ability to just read people like that.

"I'm studying law," she answers. "I go to Stanford, but I'm here visiting my folks for the holidays. I've always wanted to be a detective - specifically in the homicide field. I've always been good at looking for the details, being able to see things that others miss."

Before I can say anything else, a hand grips my wrist and pulls me to my feet and I manage to steady my drink before it spills.

"Rita," Christina says, curtly, keeping ahold of my wrist. "What a sweet costume. It's amazing what the dollar stores produce these days, huh?"

"I would say the same about yours, but it's actually really cute.. Sandy from Grease, right?"

"Mhmm." Christina hums, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Well, I'll see you around, I guess," Rita laughs, standing. She turns to me then. "Later, Tris. Come find me if you want to carry on our conversation, if I'm not completely pissed, that is."

"Yeah, see you later.." I trail off as Christina drags me away, muttering a string of curse words as she goes.

"What was all that about?" I ask after we managed to push our way into the kitchen.

"I don't want you talking to her, Tris!" She exclaims, only slightly slurring her words. "She's a snake. A poisonous snake, at that. I don't know why Will invited her, she only causes trouble."

"Trouble?" I echo, raising an eyebrow. "Rita seems so sweet; she helped me out when some guys were saying stuff.. she did mention that you two weren't on great terms, though."

"Because she's a scheming, awful, cheap, sleazy bitch-"

"Woah, Chris," I interrupt. "Isn't that a little harsh? What did she do to you that was so terrible? I mean, I know they used to date before, but that was way before Will even met you."

"She's come here to rub it in my face - she knows how much it pisses me off to see her getting all buddy buddy with Will, but she does it on purpose to get me to start something, and then turns it all around on me. Like I'm the bad guy." She raises her voice, almost tottering over in her heels but I manage to catch her before any damage can be done.

"C'mon, lets go find you somewhere to sit, and I'll grab you a glass of water.."

"No!" She exclaims, loudly, snatching her arm away from my grasp. "I thought you would be on my side, Tris. Stop being stupid, she doesn't want to be friends with you, she wants to get to me! Don't you see that?"

"Christina, stop yelling, you're making a scene." Will hisses as he arrives at her side, extending a hand to steady her, which she slaps away, furiously.

"Leave me alone, the both of you." She huffs, turning back towards the kitchen counter and grabbing the nearest bottle - vodka, it would seem - and taking a large gulp, straight from the bottle. Casting us one last sickened look, she takes the bottle and moves out of the kitchen, almost tripping over a couple times.

"I said that this would happen," Will mutters, leaning against the refrigerator, defeated. "She shouldn't be taking it out on you, but she doesn't mean it, you know that?"

"Why did you invite Rita? By the sound of it, you know full well that they don't get along, and I'm willing to bet this isn't the first time that they've been so public about their feelings for one another." I ask, bluntly, folding my arms across my chest.

"Rita is a nice girl," he tells me. "She's friends with my friends.. and I don't want it to seem like I have any hard feelings for what happened between us, or that I chose Chris over her-"

"Sorry, you did _what_ now?"

"When Christina and I met, I was rebuilding a friendship with Rita after a hard but mutual breakup.. but she wanted more than just a friendship, but I told her that I was interested in somebody else. She took it well and we remained friends, but Christina still gets paranoid that Rita will try something with me." Will explains, sighing against the rim of his beer bottle.

"Surely if you spoke to Rita and explained the situation, she would be ok with not being invited." I reason.

"Look, could you keep an eye on Christina for me tonight?" He pleads. "She'll only shout at me if I hang around too much, but I don't want her to start something unnecessary. Would you do that for me?"

"And what makes you think she wouldn't push me away too? You heard her - she wanted us both to stay away." I argue back, but Will has already wandered away, taking a swig of his beer.

"Rough night?"

I spin around to see a tall, beefy yet awkward-looking guy, smiling shyly and cradling a drink in his large hand. He seems a little out of place with that shyness about him.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," I chuckle, but there's not much humour there. "Parties aren't really my thing, so it's nothing I didn't already see coming. Sorry, I didn't get your name?"

"Al," he answers eagerly, extending a hand for me to shake, and I do so out of politeness. "And you're Tris, right? Christina has mentioned you a few times, but you're even prettier than she described, if you don't mind my saying."

As the compliment leaves his mouth, an awkward feeling swirls around in my chest, and I shuffle from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. As sweet as it was for him to say, hearing such words from a guy that isn't Tobias makes me feel a little odd.

I wish he were here tonight, but we mutually agreed to keep our relationship under wraps, especially from Christina, considering we work together. And not only would it look incredibly suspicious if I brought him as my date, but it would be hard for the both of us to act like JUST friends. It's definitely something we need to work on.

Just thinking about his soft blue eyes and his tempting lips warms my heart, and an easy and genuine smile curls at my mouth.

"Thank you, that's awfully kind of you to say." I respond, attempting to push thoughts of Tobias to the back of my mind; I have to worry about Christina tonight, and missing him is going to do me no good.

"Can I get you another drink?" He asks, nodding towards my empty cup.

"Sure, vodka and coke would be nice. But don't overdo it with the vodka, I'm trying to stick with a clear head tonight." I answer, handing it over to be refilled.

As he pours us drinks, I look him over properly for the first time - he is pretty tall - maybe a few inches smaller than Tobias - and has messy dirty blonde hair. His face is a little round, and his eyes are the colour of dark chocolate. He's dressed up as some kind of superhero, I think, but not one that I'm familiar with.

He seems sweet enough, but my gut is getting some weird vibes from this guy.

"It's pretty loud in here," he says, trying to talk over the music that has been suddenly cranked up to full volume. "Want to go and talk somewhere quiet? I've got a banging headache, see."

I hesitate, looking over my shoulder at the doorway to the living room. "I promised Will I'd keep an eye on Christina for him. She might get into trouble or hurt herself -"

"Get into trouble with who? Will's ex? I've seen them glaring at each other plenty, but not to worry, look over there." He assures me, pointing at something on the other side of the kitchen.

I turn in that direction and find Rita making out with some guy in a Ninja Turtle costume, and it doesn't look like they will be coming up for air anytime soon. A part of me doesn't want to go anywhere alone with Al, but I myself have a headache too, and could do with a couple minutes somewhere quieter.

We end up heading out on to the fire escape with our drinks, sitting on the steel steps and listening to the faint thumping of music, as well as the noise of the city. The fresh air is a beautiful contrast to the stuffy climate in the apartment.

"So, Tris," Al says, breaking the silence. "Christina didn't tell me much about you, only that you were pretty and a nice girl.. why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

"There's not much to know, if I'm being honest. I'm just average. Nothing special." I laugh, shrugging.

"Nah, come on," he presses. "You must have something to tell me - hopes, dreams?"

It's then that I realise how close he has gotten, so I shuffle away a little, my cheeks burning. What does he think is happening here? God, I really hope that he hasn't gotten the wrong impression.

"I barely even know you," I point out. "Even the people closest to me don't know me all that well.. I'm a very private person, you could say."

"Me too. I was always a shy kid growing up, never had many friends, I got bullied a lot. And because I used to bottle it all up back then, I do the same nowadays." He explains, his tone saddening a little.

"Bullied?" I echo, softly. "My high school experience was rough at times, but I never had anything like that happen to me.. what were they picking on you for?"

"I was never very athletic back then, and sports just filled me with dread. I preferred the safety of the library, rather than the hunting ground of a football pitch. And you know what schools are like - the jocks rule the halls, and anyone who isn't exactly like them get targeted."

"And now?" He looks confused. "You said you weren't athletic back then, what about now? Has that changed?" I elaborate.

"During my senior year, I decided that I'd had enough of being shoved around like a rag doll, without being able to do anything about it, so I started to get into shape. I stopped eating my feelings, went to the gym a couple times a week.. then one day when the usual posse came over to shove me against the lockers, a good half of them left with broken noses." He explains, a hint of pride laced into his voice.

"That's good; the fact that you managed to stand up for yourself like that. Did it stop afterwards? Them giving you crap, I mean."

"Yes," he chuckles. "Unsurprisingly, after a trip to the emergency room, they decided that I wasn't worth their effort and avoided me for the rest of the year."

"So you graduated, right? What did you do after that? College?" I prompt, curious.

"Education wasn't my thing, I've never been very smart so the easiest path for me was to just stay in the city and find work that way." Al shrugs, taking a sip of his drink.

"So, what is it you do?" "I work at a burger joint down thirty-fifth, a nice place. I used to go there a lot in high school, so I became very well known with the owner. That proved to be very useful because he offered me the job without a second thought." He answers, somewhat proudly. "Anyway, enough about me," he moves closer. "You still haven't told me much about yourself."

"Like I said, not much to know," I chuckle, discreetly shifting away again. "I work as a maid, live alone, never graduated high school.."

"You live alone, huh?" He repeats, his spirit-laced breath hot against my face - an indication that he is way closer than I would like.

"You know, it's getting pretty chilly out here," I lie, scrambling to my feet. "I think I'm going to head back inside now. But thanks for the drink and the chat."

"Hey, don't go! We only just got out here. And I can keep you warm if you get chilly." He protests, getting up and blocking my exit.

"That's quite alright," I say, coldly, annoyed now. "Could you move out of my way please? I really need to get back and check up on Christina. But I might see you around?"

"Stop trying to play hard to get, Tris," he pronounces, suggestively, advancing towards me. "You don't have to - I'm totally into you. What d'you say? We could stay out here, conserve body heat-"

As he gets closer, I back away, until my back hits the steel railing of the fire escape, and my breath catches in my throat. Panic unfurls inside of me, and I look around, desperately seeking some kind of escape route.

I don't know why he's acting like this, he doesn't seem all that drunk, and he has been so nice. But as he looms above me, his eyes dangerous and threatening, _nice_ isn't a word that comes to mind.

"Al, I don't mean to have given you the wrong impression, but I'm not interested in you like that," I say, my voice shaking slightly. "I have a boyfriend. Please, just let me go back inside."

"Don't lie to me! Christina told me that you were single, and that you could like me. What's wrong with me? Why won't you give me a chance, Tris? Do you think you're better than me? Is that it?"

"I'm not lying! I really do have a boyfriend. I don't think I'm better than you, not at all. Just let me past. Please." I plead, fear clawing at my insides like a wild animal.

Instead of speaking, he pushes his body towards mine and a sloppy pair of lips claim my own. He tastes like alcohol and weed, and his hand grips my hip with a bruising force, holding me in place. His other hand cups my breast, squeezing it violently.

I wriggle away, screaming, using my hands to shove at his chest. In the split second that his grip on me loosens, I rip away from him and run for the exit, flinging the door open and sprinting down the hall, wiping at my mouth with the back of my hand.

Furious tears stream down my cheeks, and I push my way into the crowded apartment, not slowing down. A hand reaches out to grab me, and I spin around to face a concerned Rita.

"Tris, what is it? I've been looking for you everywhere.. where were you?"

"I can't talk right n-now," I stammer, backing away. "I'll find you later. Just make sure that a tall, beefy guy called Al doesn't come looking for me."

I slip away and wriggle my way through sweaty bodies, dancing and drinking. Tears still cascade down my face, and I wipe them away quickly with my hand; I don't want to draw attention to myself.

"Tris!" A voice yells. Turning around, I see Al chasing after me, rage burning on his face. He doesn't look too happy, which means I am in some serious trouble.

In a quick study, I grab the wireless landline phone from the coffee table, and run as fast as I can towards the bathroom. I shove past a couple making out against the door, and lock myself inside, making sure the bolt is fully secure.

My breath comes out in sharp gasps, and I slide down against the door, suppressing my sobs. Seconds later, there are heavy bangs against the door on the other side, and he begins to shout threats. The relentless pounding on the wood is enough to cause my crying to become audible, and I am unable to control myself.

"Get out here, Tris," he screams. "You can't stay locked in there all night. I'll break the fucking door down! Come out and I'll take it easy on you! I just want a good time, you want it too, right?"

I wrap my arms around myself and rock back and forth, crying into my knees. I just want Tobias. He'd make this all go away.

 _Tobias_.

I scramble away from the door and pick up the phone I dropped near the sink. I dial the number and hold it next to my ear, hoping and praying that he will pick up.

After a few rings, his deep voice fills my ear, "Hello? This is Tobias Eaton."

"Tobias." I sob harder, hearing his soothing voice. There is nothing I want more than his arms around me in this moment.

"Tris? Tris, is that you?" He asks, his voice now panicked. "Why are you crying? What's happened?"

"Please come," I plead. "I need your help. This guy, he tried it on with me and got angry when I pushed him away and told him I was already in a relationship, now he's trying to break down the bathroom door to get to me."

"I'm on my way," he says, fiercely, and I can hear him rushing around on his end of the line. "Tris, I need you to stay calm, ok? Keep breathing. If he manages to get in that bathroom you need to be ready."

"I'm scared." I cry, as the pounding on the door becomes louder, and I cradle the phone closer to my ear. "I know, but I'm coming to get you, baby. He is not going to hurt you. I'm going to get you out of that apartment, and you will be safe. Just hang in there for a bit longer."

"Please hurry." I beg.

"I'm coming as fast as I can," he promises, and I hear the car engine start up. "I have the address. Be brave, Tris. I will be there soon."

There's another sudden yell from the other side of the door, causing me to yelp and drop the phone. Hard. The plastic tears away from the battery, and the phone is smashed. Broken, by all means.

Muttering a dozen curse words, I attempt to fit the pieces back together, to no avail. All there is left to do is wait, hoping that Tobias gets here before the lunatic outside sends the door flying off its hinges.

All of a sudden, the violent knocking slows down, and is replaced by soft taps that are barely audible over the loud music.

"Tris," he says, his voice now sickly sweet. "Why don't you let me in? We can talk. You don't mind talking, right? C'mon stop being so stubborn - open the door and let me apologise for my behaviour tonight. You're just so hot and I couldn't control myself-"

"Go fuck yourself!" I shout back, which was probably not very smart on my part.

"Fine!" He roars. "You want to be like that? Go ahead. But I'll wait here all night if I have to - maybe I'll get some of my buddies to help me out. What d'you think to that?"

I wipe away the tears that remain on my cheeks and take a steady breath to compose myself - Tobias was right, if Al isn't bluffing about getting his friends to help him beat down this door, I need to be prepared to defend myself.

I pull myself up to my feet and look around the bathroom, searching for something that I could use to fight them off, at least for a moment to give me a slight advantage.

I am not sure why nobody is helping to get Al away from the bathroom; surely they have heard his shouting and threats? But either they're too drunk to intervene, or are scared to do so. So for the time being, I'm on my own.

I rifle through the cabinets, finally locating a pair of blunt but sufficient scissors and a half-empty can of deodorant. Not all that useful, but it'll have to do.

As I feared, the set of heavy knocks is joined by a few more fists, meaning Al must have called a couple more guys over.

"I'm not coming out," I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. "You can threaten me all you like. Just leave me alone."

"Ooh," an unfamiliar male voice jeers. "Watch your tongue, lass - we were promised a go on you too, and if you want to make it out unharmed, you will do as we say, princess."

"Hey," somebody shouts. "What are you guys doing to my bathroom door? If you are going to cause trouble, you can get the fuck out of here before I call the police."

"Oh piss off Will," Al snaps, harshly. "If you don't turn around and walk away this minute, I'll make you sure your girlfriends little gal pal doesn't get into too much of a state. Riley, make sure he doesn't call the cops."

I move over to the corner, furthest away from the door, clutching the scissors and the can in my hands, biting my tongue - if I continue to speak up, I will make the situation a lot worse.

I'm not sure how long I squat there for, preparing myself for whatever is to happen next, before the thumping music is cut off completely.

"Step away from that door." A familiar voice growls, and it's as if the whole apartment has fell completely silent - that voice is all I can hear.

"And who are you?" Al sneers. "Get lost, pretty boy. We called dibs on the little blonde, so go find someone else to play superhero to."

"I swear to God, if you don't move away in five seconds, you are going to wish you had never been born. And that is a promise, not a threat." Tobias insists, his voice spine-chillingly intimidating. I've never heard anyone sound that way before.

I don't hear the rest of the conversation, but after a thirty second time space, the yelling starts - people are shouting and chanting "fight", and the sound of knuckle meeting bone rips through my head.

Images of Tobias going against four of more guys alone flash in my mind, and fear burns away at my insides like acid.

I drop my 'weapons' and run for the door, unlocking it and yanking it open. A huge crowd has gathered just outside, and slap bang in the middle is Tobias who has Al by his shirt, his fist slamming into his face repeatedly.

Most of Al's accomplices already lie groaning on the floor, and I say _most_ because as soon as I step outside, one grabs me by the hair and holds me against the wall.

"Tobias!" I yell, wincing at the burning sensation taking over my scalp.

His head snaps away from Al, and as soon as he catches sight of me, he drops him and heads for me and the other guy holding me - who I now recognise as Drew, the one from earlier.

He uses his elbow to jab Drew square in the face, causing him to stagger back, clutching his nose and crying out in pain. Tobias then reaches out for me and pulls me at his side, his arm tightening protectively.

His jaw is tightened, and his eyes are full of red, hot fury; I don't think I've ever seen anybody so angry. It would scare me if I wasn't tucked securely into his side, his rough hands reminding me of who it really is under that aggression.

Pushing through the crowd of party guests, he practically drags me across the living room and out of the front door at lightening speed. We take the back exit once we reach the lobby, in case anybody decided to follow us.

As soon as the emergency door closes behind us, I burst into another round of tears, and Tobias pulls me to his chest. His own breath is shaky next to my ear, and I burrow my head further into his shirt, trying to get my breathing under control.

He takes a few steps back, taking me with him, and leans his back against the brick wall.

"It's okay," he whispers, kissing the crown of my head. "I've got you, baby."

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Okay, I LOVED writing this chapter. It was packed full of drama, and it is my longest chapter so far. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.**

 **Next chapter will be a continuation from this one, but in Tobias' POV so make sure to stay tuned for that as soon as possible.**

 **\- GuiltyMind :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 19 {Tobias' POV}**

 **~SLIGHTLY M-RATED CHAPTER~**

 **-o-o-o-**

" _Tobias_."

A female voice comes through the phone - Tris's voice, accompanied by soft sobs, almost masked by the clamorous music.

"Tris?" I ask, abruptly sitting up on the couch. "Tris, is that you? Why are you crying? What's happened?"

"Please come," she pleads, desperately. "I need your help. This guy, he tried it on with me and got angry when I pushed him away and told him I was already in a relationship, now he's trying to break down the bathroom door to get to me."

I jump up from the couch, fury and fear pulsing around my body. "I'm on my way. Tris, I need you to stay calm, ok? Keep breathing. If he manages to get in that bathroom you need to be ready."

"I'm scared." She cries, and I faintly here pounding on a door - the asshole trying to break the door down, of no doubt.

"I know, but I'm coming to get you, baby. He is not going to hurt you. I'm going to get you out of that apartment, and you will be safe. Just hang in there for a bit longer." I promise, grabbing my jacket and stuffing my feet into my shoes.

"Please hurry." She whimpers, just as I get into my car and start up the engine. She sounds so frightened, so unlike the Tris I have come to know; in any other situation, she would insist to deal with on her own, which is a clear indication of how serious this is.

"I'm coming as fast as I can," I assure her. "I have the address. Be brave, Tris. I will be there soon."

I clearly hear some kind of male-sounding yell, and then silence - the line has gone dead.

I curse under my breath and reverse out of the driveway, hitting a garbage can along the way. My hands tighten on the wheel, and I put my foot down on the gas, speeding around corners, recklessly.

My blood boils at the thought of somebody else kissing Tris - and the fact that it wasn't consensual just fuels my hate fire. And not only that, are planning to do god-knows what with her if they bust that door down.

The very idea of that causes me to pick up my speed, determined to get to her as soon as possible, even if that means breaking the law to do so.

If anything happens to her.. _fuck_ , I am in so deep with her; she has given me the courage to stand up for myself, to take charge of my destiny. She makes me feel things I never thought possible, things that Nita never even came close to awakening in me.

Like I told her after the whole Caleb mess - she is my family now. And no drunken, disgusting guys are going to get in the way of that.

It takes hardly any time for me to reach the city, considering the speed I am going and the lack of cars on the road - it is New Years Eve, after all, and most are either at home or out partying.

Grabbing my phone, I slow down a little so I can drive and double check Christina's address at the same time. I discover that her block of flats is not far from where I am, and use my GPS to find the quickest route.

In no time at all, I have parked up and gotten out of my car, rushing to the entrance to the building. It isn't hard to guess which apartment is the one I am looking for - the loud music and noisy people gives me a rather obvious hint.

The door is wide open, so I enter, untroubled. Though, a few of the guests give me an odd look - perhaps it's because of my lack of costume, or the fact that I have steam practically coming out of my ears.

"Are you supposed to be here?" A girl in a lifeguard costume asks, trying to stop me, but I push past with ease. I cross the apartment quickly, and spot a door to my left, where a dozen guys are yelling and pounding on the chipped wood.

The sound system is in arms reach, so I pull out the plug, cutting off the Tove Lo song that had been blasting out. This catches the guys' attention, and they turn to face me, pausing their harassment. In fact, it causes most of the party crowd to look at me, both curious and angry.

I step back from the stereo and towards the bathroom, clenching my jaw.

"Step away from that door." I spit out, my voice not even sounding quite like my own - too deep and dangerous than usual. Zeke has pointed out many times that I have an intimidating stature, and this is a good situation in which I need to utilise it.

The largest of them all speaks up first, "And who are you? Get lost, pretty boy. We called dibs on the little blonde, so go find someone else to play superhero to."

"I swear to God, if you don't move away in five seconds, you are going to wish you had never been born. And that is a promise, not a threat." I growl, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

"Or what?" Another sneers. "Look, if you're that interested, we'll let you in on our deal - you can have a few minutes on the blonde."

"She's going to regret ever pushing me away when I tried to make a move on her, in the first place." The big guy adds, smirking.

In that moment, all I see is red - I lunge forward and land a decent right hook to the side of his head. His friends jump in then, and I pick them off, one by one. It helps that they are all extremely plastered, because their swings are sloppy and slow, and all much more diminutive in size.

Then the larger one elbows his way in, and delivers a solid kick to my ribs, which causes my upper hand to slip away. He manages to get another jab at my face, but I manage to dodge enough for it to just scrape the side of my head.

Then I have him by the shirt, my hand curled tightly into the material, holding him in place as I deliver punch after punch to his face. All I can see is him forcing himself on my girl, his disgustingly proud smile..

" _Tobias_!"

I snap my head in the direction of the now open bathroom door, where Tris is pinned against a wall by one of Al's accomplices, gripping her hair with what looks like great force. As soon as I drop Al, his knees buckle under him, and he falls to the ground with a thud.

But he is the least of my worries; I storm over to where Tris is struggling away from the wall, her face scrunched up in pain.

I use my elbow to get a good shot at his face - and after hearing his nose crack - he releases Tris and stumbles away, groaning.

I reach out for her and pull her to my side, my arm tightening around her small frame. She huddles close, fingers gripping at my shirt.

A large crowd has gathered, and are making so much noise that I can barely hear myself think - but my number one priority is to get Tris out of this apartment. _Now_.

Keeping a good hold on her, I pull her away from the scene and across the living room, heading straight out of the door. We quickly make our way down the flights of stairs, figuring it would be safer than taking the elevator, and use the emergency door out at the back to leave the building completely.

As soon as we get outside, Tris begins to cry, and I draw her swiftly into my arms, holding her tightly. I bury my face into her soft hair, and let out a couple of shaky breaths, attempting to calm myself.

I walk a few steps backwards until I am leaning against the brick wall, and Tris burrows her head into my chest, sobbing quietly as I stroke my hand over her hair, softly.

"It's okay," I whisper, kissing her head. "I've got you, baby."

"I didn't think you'd get there in time," she mumbles through the tears. "They were shouting stuff, really horrible stuff, and nobody could get them away from the door. I thought -"

"Well, I am here now. Those bastards can't get to you. Just breathe, Tris. It is going to be ok, I'm with you." I interrupt, not wanting to hear the rest of what she was about to say; it is taking all of my strength not to go back in there and rip their heads off.

As if reading my mind, Tris' grip tightens around me, and she holds on for dear life. My muscles relax, but red hot anger still burns in my stomach, desperate to be unleashed.

Is this how _he_ felt? Is this what my father felt like during a fit of rage, or just before he unbuckled that heavy, leather belt?

 _I am not him_ , I remind myself, firmly.

I would never even dream of laying a finger on the beautiful girl in my arms, and although I am capable of causing her physical injury, it tears my heart in two at the very idea. An image of her lying on the ground, face bloody, staring up at me with raw fear in her exquisite eyes, pops up in my mind. I shiver; that will never happen. I am not my father, and I will never turn out like him.

"Let me take you home," I say, my voice unintentionally tight, but not exactly aggressive. "In fact, let me bring you home with me. I would really like you to stay with me tonight.. it wouldn't feel right to leave you like this."

I expect her to make sure that it is something I would want, but she simply nods and pulls away enough to wipe her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Taking her hand in mine, I guide her out of the dark alleyway at the back of the building, and then we make a quick B- line for the car. I open up the door for her to get in first, and then shuffle back over to the drivers side.

Once the doors are locked and the engine hums into life, she lets out a relieved sigh and settles back against the leather seat. I lean over slightly to pat her knee before pulling away from the sidewalk, all set to deliver my girl to a place where she can feel safe - God knows that she is going to need somewhere like that, tonight more than ever.

We do not speak for the entire journey back into town - I concentrate on the roads ahead, trying to push away the remaining anger inside of me, and Tris simply stares out of the window, hands clasped together tightly in her lap.

I long to initiate a conversation - or to just reassure her that I am here - but I can appreciate that she needs the silence to allow tonight's events to sink in sufficiently. So I bite my tongue and keep driving, gripping the wheel with a great force.

After parking in my driveway and turning off the engine, we continue to sit in the quiet, neither of us making any attempt to move.

However, a minute or two later, I turn my head to look at the pale blonde huddled in the passenger seat, just in time to see a tear slowly fall from her eye.

"I was a coward tonight," she eventually spits out, furiously. "I'm not some helpless, weak little girl. I could've handled that on my own - I should've, anyway. I shouldn't have got myself in that situation to begin with. I'm so _stupid_."

"Hey," I object. "Stop that. Stop that this instant. What were you to do? Take on a group of guys, much bigger and stronger than you?"

"I could have done something! Anything! Instead I locked myself away and called you, crying like a baby." She argues back, seemingly set on convincing me that she was at fault for what happened.

"Now you listen to me, Tris Prior," I say, firmly, grabbing her face in my hands and tilting it towards me, until her eyes burn into my own. "I know that you have this ridiculous idea that you must do anything and everything by yourself, but you need to get that out of your head. There is absolutely nothing wrong with needing a bit of help. Do not beat yourself up about this; you did the right thing by calling me, otherwise you would still be trapped in that bathroom, or worse. There is not a single doubt in my mind that you can defend yourself against lions, tigers, and even drunk, disgusting guys. But from time to time, you may need help along the way. And it is ok to admit that."

"You don't think that makes me weak, like?" She whispers, the gaze she has me captured in, unyielding.

"Admitting that you need help does not make you weak - quite the opposite, wouldn't you say? You are the epitome of strength and bravery, which is one of the things that pulled me to you. But even the strongest of soldiers are allowed to have their weak moments."

I stare deep into her smokey eyes, and cup her cheek, the one that isn't bright red from a hit to the face, presumably by the guy who had her up against the wall. Thinking about someone being violent with my girl is enough to make my blood boil, but in this moment, I don't want to concentrate on anything but her.

A smile curls at my lips as I slowly lean in, savouring the air we share for a second or two. Then our lips touch, and sparks fly in every direction. The world is slowly disappearing around us, along with all of our worries, our troubles and our problems. She makes it so that none of that matters, not in this moment of bliss.

I honestly never knew that a kiss this innocent could feel so intimate and electrifying. Her lips move with mine in perfect sync, my hands feeling her waist; I pull her closer, causing the kiss to become deeper, extraordinarily passionate.

I feel her hands on the back of my neck, playing with the ends of my hair. A smile grows on my face as it begins to tickle slightly, and we pull away.

For the first time, she smiles, and I relax against my seat, leaning back to observe her for a moment. God her smile. A deep curve on her lips is enough to completely stop time. A smile that prods at a million happy memoried in a split second. That precious dimple.. she has the very smile that makes you feel grateful to be alive.

"Let's get you inside and out of this costume," I suggest, smirking a little. "Though, I must admit, it is a very flattering outfit."

"Oh, _please_. I look like an under appreciated hooker. And the fairy wings don't do me any favours." She rolls her eyes, getting out of the car. I can't help but crack a smile - my girl is back from whatever dark cloud she was trapped under.

I follow in her footsteps and lock up the car, casually swinging an arm around her shoulders as we walk up.

"D'you mind if I take a quick shower?" Tris asks as I lock the front door behind us. "I smell like booze, and I kind of want to wash away the whole night.."

"Sure, you can use the master bathroom. Go ahead and grab a pair of my boxers and a shirt to wear when you get out; that is assuming you don't want to spend the night in that dress?"

"I'd rather sleep on a bed of glass," she adorably scrunches up her nose. "But thanks - I won't be long, promise."

"Take as long as you need. I will be waiting right here.. I think I have some ice cream in the freezer, how would you feel about assisting me in eating the whole tub, while watching a movie?"

"That sounds perfect." She agrees, pecking me on the cheek before making her way up the marbled staircase, her sneakers squeaking with each step.

I try to avoid looking, but I can't help but notice how amazing her ass looks in that hot dress, as well as her smooth, long legs. _Damn_.

It is no wonder those guys at the party took notice of her, she is an attractive girl. Mix that with a sexy dress and alcohol, the whole situation is hardly a surprise. However, that does not make it right, or in any way justifiable.

As I head into the kitchen, I try to push it all out of my mind - the fighting, the feelings of becoming Marcus, the heart-tearing sobs that came from Tris. We are together now, and that is all that matters, at least in my eyes.

I slump down onto one of the bar stools at the island, and put my head in my hands, still unable to shake my feelings.

Marcus would have had a lot to say about my actions tonight, but for once, they may have been words of praise. The thought of him commending me at all is enough to make me nauseous.

My viciousness was understandable, and I know that if I had not handled it in that way, Tris would have been in more danger. But that doesn't mean that I have to like what I did, what I am capable of.

And having Tris witness me in such a rabid state was even worse. She has always insisted that I am a soft person, but after tonight, her opinion will most likely change. And who could blame her if she saw me differently now?

My worst nightmare used to be that I would become Marcus, that I would develop his selfish, fierce tendencies. But I felt it change, ever since I caught a certain blonde snooping through my bookshelves a few months ago.

Now I am most scared of the possibility that Tris could look at me the way my mother looked at Marcus.

I am certain that I'm not like my father, not on a day-to-day scale. But there is a part of me that has a hidden darkness, one that threatens to emerge every blue moon.

I grew up watching my mother being terribly abused by a man who was supposed to take care of me, of us. And those memories cast a dark shadow over a piece of my soul, a piece that is not capable of seeing the light of day. And it is all _his_ fault.

Most men would be protective of those they care deeply for, and would be prepared to act in the very same way that I did, but I wanted to really hurt those guys. I wanted them to feel pain, to be tortured into understanding how despicable they are.

It is that bloodthirsty voice in my head that drills all of these fears into my system, that holds me back from really trusting a person.

I was supposed to be able to trust my parents - the two people in the world that would do anything for their child - but they threw that trust at a wall and stomped all over it. So if they were so willing to feed me to the wolves, what makes other people any different?

Maybe that is another thing that draws me to Tris; we have both had our faith shattered, and had no one to assist us in gathering up the pieces. But now we have each other, and we can begin to fit those broken pieces back together - and although it may never be quite the same, we would have each other to lean on, and that counts for a whole lot.

I lift my head from my hands and stand, moving towards the freezer to track down that ice cream I promised. I eventually find a tub of Ben & Jerry's that has not been opened, and I set it down on the counter before grabbing two spoons.

"Mmm, chocolate," I turn to see Tris stood at the island, reading the label on the ice cream. "My favourite."

I almost drop the spoons in my hand when I get a good look at her - she is wearing one of my comfy black shirts, and although it fits me well, for Tris it hangs off one shoulder and brushes against her thighs. Her hair is wet and pulled up in a messy bun, strands falling out left and right. She looks _good_.

Noticing me staring, she bites down on her lower lip. "I know, I look a complete mess-"

Before she can finish what she was saying, I grab her waist and pull her up against me, covering her mouth with my own. Her small hands tug at my shirt, pulling me even closer.

My tongue traces the seam of her lips, and she allows me access, our tongues dancing to their own beautiful, steady beat. I lift her up so her legs wrap around my waist, and set her down on the nearest flat surface - the granite counter beside the sink.

I move away from her mouth, and let my lips brush against her chin, and then down to her collarbone. And as I kiss her neck, a wave of pleasure rushes through my body. Her scent is undeniably intoxicating.

"Tobias." She gasps into my ear as I begin to tease the tender flesh with my teeth, then soothe it with my tongue. My hands run along her smooth thighs, pushing the shirt further and further upward to reveal more of her legs.

Her head falls back against one of the cabinets, and I nip at her throat, encouraging a pleasurable sigh to escape her mouth. One of my hands moves away from her leg and runs along the length of her spine, under my shirt, and my breath catches in my throat when I discover that she is not wearing a bra.

Tentatively, I slide my hand to her toned stomach, and then upward to her chest. I cup her right breast in my hand and brush her nipple with my thumb, causing Tris to arch her back, gripping onto my shoulders with an intense force.

By now I am hard as a rock, my desire to strong to suppress. Fuck, this woman will be the death of me. The passion in every touch between us is almost too much to handle.

As much as I would like this to continue, I am aware that she needs her rest - tonight has been a disaster, and it would not be fair to do this right now.

I slowly remove my hand from under the shirt and slow down our kisses, until we pull away for air.

"Would you like to watch a movie?" I ask, almost breathless.

"Depends on the movie," she smirks, playing with the hem of my shirt. "Nothing romantic, that is my one demand. But I could go for something gory right now - maybe a zombie movie?"

"As you wish. Now, you go pick one out while I get a blanket from upstairs." I encourage, and once she slips off the counter and turns to go, I pat her butt for good measure.

After grabbing a large blanket, I join Tris in the living room where she is attempting to work the television, cross-legged on the couch.

"How'd you work this damn thing?" She huffs, jabbing at the remote. "All this high-tech stuff may look all nice, but they're not the easiest to use, eh?"

I chuckle, sitting down beside her as I ease the remote from her hands. With a few clicks, I have Netflix up and loaded, and Tris watches in awe.

"So, what? You're some kind of whizz kid?" She sasses, her eyes bright with amusement.

"Something like that." I smirk, handing the remote back over so she can choose a movie while I drape the blanket over us, sliding my arm around her shoulder.

We end up agreeing on watching the first couple episodes of The Walking Dead, as neither of us are too familiar with the show.

"Y'know, its past midnight.. we missed the whole 'clock strikes the new year' thing." Tris points out as we settle down, snuggling into my side.

"And we lost out on the kiss at midnight tradition," I add, softly. "But the clock may have struck while we were making out in the kitchen, so I suppose we can count that."

She looks up at me, her charcoal eyes glinting in the dark. "Or we could uphold tradition, with the exception of being, like, twenty minutes late."

Without speaking, I lower my lips to hers, and unlike the last time, it is soft and slow and exceptionally intimate. It makes my heart race and my palms sweat, and just having the privilege to be this close to her is something that I will never take for granted.

"Best New Years kiss I have ever had." I state, honestly, as we pull away, a cheek-splitting grin shamelessly on my face.

"Agreed." She sighs, contently, fitting back against me, her head on my chest.

Two episodes later, we decide that it is time to hit the hay - it has been a long and traumatic night, after all. I don't know about Tris, but I'm exhausted; but judging by her droopy eyes, she has a similar outlook.

As soon as we get settled in the master bed, her head on my chest and her leg thrown over mine, the both of us crash out, slipping into a steady slumber.

And tonight, I believe that the nightmares will cease to exist.

 **-o-o-o-**

I'm startled awake by the sound of people downstairs, laughing and talking - and even from afar, I know those voices like the back of my hand.

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I find out that it is already mid-afternoon, and to say that we slept in would be an understatement.

Having not experienced the same abrupt awakening as I did, Tris sleeps soundly in my arms, her blonde hair tickling my bare chest.

I kiss her forehead softly before detangling myself from her, and slipping out of the comfy sheets. I grab a shirt and tug it on over my head, then freeze in place - what the hell is Tris going to wear today?

I scramble towards the closest and rake through, desperately searching for something that could pass as her own, or at least articles of clothing that don't swallow her whole. By a sudden stroke of luck, I manage to track down an old dress of Nita's - a dark grey one with long sleeves and at a modest length. It is pretty old, so it may just fit Tris.

Nita also left an old pair of black flats behind, and I pray that they are near to her size. I lay those on the end of the bed, hoping that she will take the hint and change into them; I cannot bring myself to wake her just yet, and I must go and greet my unexpected guests downstairs.

I exit the bedroom, and head downstairs, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt. In the kitchen, Zeke and Uriah sit at the island, tucking into a packet of cookies from the cupboard, and Hanna stands on the opposite side, unpacking plastic containers from her bag.

"Tobias," she smiles, upon noticing me in the doorway. "Sorry for our intrusion - you weren't answering the door, so we let ourselves in with the key under the plant pot. We wanted to surprise you with a good supper, I figured that you would not be making anything for yourself. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not. I had a late night, I slept for longer than planned." I answer, stifling a yawn with the back of my hand.

"Dude, wake up," Uriah laughs, throwing a few cookie crumbs at my head. "What, did you have a party to go to? Are you hungover?"

"Not quite.. but I did go to a party, not for the reason you must be thinking, though. It was not a pleasant experience." I admit, making my way to the refrigerator to pour myself a glass of orange juice.

" _Not a pleasant experience_?" Zeke mocks, in disbelief. "That party must have sucked ass then, because real hardcore parties are the real deal - alcohol, music, chicks-"

"Ezekiel," Hanna snaps. "We do not address women as chicks, or birds, or whatever else you may come up with. It is not polite, and certainly not gentleman-like."

"It was a party over in the city. It was full of drunken morons in fancy dress. I headed over pretty late.. I had to help out with a few things." I tell them, vaguely.

"It seems like you did a lot more than help out. Did you get jumped? And who asked you over there, anyway?" Uriah wants to know, gesturing towards my bruised and split knuckles.

"Tris," I say, softly. "Some men were giving her trouble, and she got stuck in a bathroom while they tried to beat down the door. What they were threatening to do was disgusting.. she called and I went over straight away. The men in question did not want to give way without a fight, hence the hands."

"That's unfortunate. A lot of things like that happen at parties; some idiotic guys who think that every girl wants them, and those that reject them are just 'playing hard to get'. How is she now?" Zeke points out.

"Good, I think." I respond, looking down and fiddling with my hands.

"Wait, is she here?" Uriah asks, his eyes twinkling, covertly. "She is, isn't she? Upstairs?"

"Yes, ok," I relent, sighing. "She is upstairs sleeping. I didn't want to wake her just yet - I brought her over last night. Leaving her alone didn't seem like the right thing to do."

"That poor, poor girl! Tobias, you go and wake her up and bring her down. I will make her something comforting to eat. And you boys had better be on your best behaviour; I will not have you show us up in front of the girl, am I clear?" Hanna instructs, briskly.

" _Yes, ma'am_." All three of us echo at the same time.

While the Pedrad brothers help out their mother with unpacking the food, I make my way upstairs as requested to wake up Tris.

I just hope she doesn't get too alarmed by the fact that she is about to meet the people who are as good as flesh and blood to me. I understand that it is a lot to spring on a person, especially a half-asleep person.

I slip into the bedroom and find her already awake, sat up and stretching, looking a little puzzled - perhaps after discovering my absence.

"Hey," she yawns, looking relieved as she notices me. "I wondered where you went; I started to think you'd gone and ditched me, but then I remembered it was your house."

"We actually have company.. uninvited and unexpected guests, might I add." I explain, sheepishly.

Her eyes grow wide and anxious as she asks, "Company? Who?"

"You remember Zeke? Well, him, his brother and mother have shown up," I say, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "They are like family to me, as I have told you a few times before. And Hanna would really like to meet you, and possibly make you some food. If that is ok with you, of course."

"She wants to meet me? How come? I mean, did you tell her about.. _us_?"

"They know about you, yes," I confirm. "Hanna is the closest I have to a conventional mother figure, and she never really approved of Nita - she just wants to meet you properly, get to know you. After Nita, I can tell that she has become wary of any women in my life. But I know she is going to love you."

"No pressure then." She jokes, sarcastically, beginning to nibble on her thumbnail; a bad habit she tends to adopt when she gets nervous.

"Just be your usual, remarkable self, and she will find it impossible not to like you." I assure her, drawing her hand away from her mouth and into my own, squeezing it in reassurance.

"But I have nothing to wear," Tris exclaims, pulling her hand out of mine and climbing out of the sheets, panicked. "Unless you want me to go down in that hooker dress and the fairy wings.."

"I already thought that through - Nita left a few things behind, items that were too small. I was thinking that they might fit you?" I explain, gesturing to the dress and the flats at the end of the bed. She inspects the label in the dress, and informs me that it is her size, but the flat shoes are a few sizes too big.

"I could just wear my sneakers," she suggests, nudging her black shoes with her toe. "I know they aren't exactly the most glamorous of footwear, but beggars can't be choosers, right?"

"You are going to look beautiful, as you always do," I assure her, truthfully. "Now get to it, or Hanna is going to attack me with her slipper for taking too long in waking you up."

"D'you have a spare toothbrush that I could borrow?" She asks, hopefully, walking backwards towards the bathroom, her eyes still locked on mine.

"Top cabinet, next to the mouthwash." I answer, smiling.

As I wait for her to finish up in the bathroom, I apply some deodorant and swap my sweats for Levi's, and my crumpled shirt for a Calvin Klein sweater. I run a hand through my hair, trying to suppress my nerves. If not for my sake, then for Tris'.

There is not a doubt in my mind that Hanna will not adore Tris as much as I do - and I also understand that she will not dwell on the fact that she is a lower class girl either - but I need this meeting to go well. However, if this were a disaster and an utter shamble, it would in no way lessen my affection for Tris. As much as I would love the Pedrad's blessing, it is not a deal breaker.

"I'm not too sure about this dress," she says, emerging from the bathroom, running a hand through her long blonde locks. "D'you think it gives a Sunday school vibe? Because that's exactly what I'm thinking."

"You look.. _wow_." I express, my eyes roaming from head to toe, taking in her beauty.

The dress hugs her curves, but is modest enough to cause her to appear reserved. Her eyes - although a little bleary from sleep - pierce through the well-lit room, puncturing a hole through my soul. What did I do to deserve this woman?

She shuffles over to my side, gripping tightly onto my hand, biting down on her lip.

"What if she doesn't like me?" She worries. "How'd we get past that? Like you said, she's pretty much a second mother to you.. I'd hate to think that she wouldn't approve of us together. I know it seems dumb, but I really would like your family's blessing."

"We are going to be fine - you are going to be fine," I insist. "And you know how we will get through it? Together."

"Together... that sounds nice." She smiles.

"Always together," I say, kissing her head. "Now, it is time to get this show on the road."

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **New chapter, yay! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you liked the tiny bit of M-rated content I threw in there - a few of you requested some smutty scenes, and I wanted to start them off slowly.**

 **Next chapter will be Tris meeting the Pedrad's; will it go without a hitch, or will it end in tears?**

 **Thank you for all the supportive and kind reviews, as well as the PM's. Y'all are the best!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	20. Chapter 20

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 20 (Tris' POV)**

 **-o-o-o-**

"Well, this certainly did not go the way I hoped it would," Tobias sighs. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

"Oh, c'mon. It could've been a whole lot worse. A mild concussion isn't anything I can't handle." I joke, attempting to ease his identifiable anxiety.

It is almost midnight, and we have been at the ER for a good few hours - this being the only time it has been just the two of us, now that Hanna and the boys have gone in search of a coffee machine.

"Uriah has always been a little clumsy," He informs me, sheepishly. "Poor kid, he never means any harm. But he should come with his own government official warning label."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to crash into me like that. All I can say is that he'd make a good football player." I smile, nudging him with the toe of my shoe.

"I got so scared when you wouldn't wake up," he admits, meeting my eyes. "I thought you had really hit your head, and there was some blood.."

"Just a small cut, it's nothing, ok? The doc said so. I'm fine." I remind him, softening slightly.

"I know, I know," he shakes his head. "But it was frightening all the same. You.. well, you are very important to me, Tris."

Before I can answer, the curtain snaps open and a guilty-looking nurse comes into view.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I need to wrap up your head." She apologises, her eyes flicking between the two of us.

"Tobias was just leaving," I assure her, and he frowns at me. "Go get a coffee or something, or just stretch your legs."

He seems hesitant, but doesn't object, and my eyes follow him as he skirts around the round-faced nurse, and then out of sight.

"Sorry, I didn't meant to interrupt anything.."

"Don't even worry about it," I wave her off. "He's just worried, is all."

"You did take quite a hard fall, and that gash on your head is pretty severe - it'll take a week or two to heal properly." She says, stepping up to the hospital bed I am seated on, and gathering up the supplies she'll need to dress the wound.

"I've had worse scrapes. Barely even hurts." I lie, wincing as she presses some kind of liquid to the cut.

The nurse is pretty young, I notice - maybe a couple years older than me. She has deep auburn hair, thick and long, tied back in a ponytail. I can tell she's more on the curvy side, but it suits her; she's a very pretty woman.

"Your hair is lovely," she states, moving it out of the way. "Is it naturally this colour?"

"Yeah, I've only ever dyed it one time - when the whole 'solo colour streak' was a big thing. My friends helped me to dye a great big purple streak into it. My mom had a fit." I laugh, remembering how much trouble I was in for pulling that stunt.

"I dyed mine a couple times," she tells me. "I went through the standard rebellious teenager phase, and ended up chopping most of it off and dying it bright blue."

We continue to chat mindlessly as she patches up my head, finally finishing the dressing after ten minutes.

"I'll get the doctor to come and check up on your vitals, see how you're doing - you may get to go home tonight." She smiles, stepping back towards the curtain.

Just as she leaves, Tobias and the Pedrad's return, bearing crappy-looking cups of what I presume to be coffee.

"Nice bandage, rookie." Zeke grins.

"I really am sorry, Tris," Uriah apologises for the fiftieth time, his dark eyes filled with shame. "I didn't mean to shove into you so hard.. or at all, actually. I didn't expect you to go sprawling out onto the concrete like that."

"Look at the poor girl," Hanna snaps, sitting beside me on the bed and wrapping an arm around me. "She is not one of you boys, she is gentle. What did you expect would happen?"

"It's alright, Hanna," I assure her, then smile at Uriah. "I've had worse, stop apologising. It was an accident."

Everything was going well until Uriah's moment of clumsiness - Hanna seemed to take well to me, which made me happy; she means a lot to Tobias, that much I know.

It was only when I stood up from the garden table to excuse myself for a bathroom break, when Uriah came barrelling into me, causing me to fall and hit my head on the concrete, knocking me clean out.

Within the next twenty minutes, the doctor has labelled me all clear, and has granted me permission to go home - they were originally planning on keeping me in for observation but everything seemed under control, and I was given pain killers for the gash in my head.

"It is awfully late," Hanna notices, checking her expensive-looking wrist watch as we exit the ER. "We had better be going home. Tobias, you take good care of your girl, God knows she deserves it."

"I'm sorry that this wasn't the New Years Day you were probably expecting." I apologise, awkwardly, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

"On the contrary, I had the privilege of meeting you - and although I was not expecting it, it still proved to be very enjoyable." Hanna answers, swiftly, drawing me into a motherly hug.

I get a hug from Uriah also, and Zeke ruffles my hair, avoiding my injury.

Parting ways, Tobias keeps a hand on my lower back, guiding me across the lot to his car. He opens up the passenger door for me, before getting behind the wheel himself.

"You are going to stay with me tonight, right?" He asks, reaching over the console to touch my thigh, his blue eyes piercing through the darkness.

"If you want me to, then I'm there." I answer, gently.

It takes around thirty minutes to get back into town, and to Tobias's grand house. The marble steps that lead up to the front door glow in the moonlight, and glitter brilliantly. The house really is impressive.

Once inside, we retreat upstairs to bed - him changing into a pair of dark sweats, and me into one of his white cotton shirts, as soft as a cloud.

"Hey, you changed the sheets.. I didn't notice last night." I point out, pausing at the foot of the large bed.

"Yes," he confirms, clearing his throat. "I wanted to get rid of the last traces of Nita, including the sheets she slept on - I wanted you to feel more comfortable here.."

"That's sweet." I smile, drawing back the sheets to climb in.

"Hanna and the guys really like you, they told me so," he adds, getting in under the covers too. "Although you got hurt, everything leading up to that point was excellent. They loved you - just like I knew they would."

"They're good people. I can see why you took to them so well growing up.. you really fit in with them. Like one of the family."

I roll over so that my head is resting on his chest, and my leg is flung over his. His thumb traces circles on my shoulder, on the skin where the shirt has ridden down.

"Thank you," he says, into the darkness, his breath close to my ear. "For being so accepting of the Pedrad's. I know they can be rather eccentric, but they are extraordinary people - you introduced yourself without hesitation.. you made it seem like you were proud to be with me."

My heart pounds intensely in my chest; he hasn't ever referred to us as exclusive, nor have we had that conversation just yet.

"I am proud to, er... _be with you_." I stammer, my cheeks flushed.

"You feel the same about our relationship, right? You do not mind being referred to as my.. significant other, in another term."

"You mean, boyfriend and girlfriend type thing?" I guess, not understanding where he is going with this.

"Exactly," he confirms, nervously. "It would be an honour to be able to introduce you to people as my girlfriend, but only if you would be willing to do the same.. I understand if you are not ready for the commitment yet but-"

"I'm yours, Tobias. I've told you as many times as I can count. I just assumed that you weren't ready to get serious or whatever." I express, shyly.

"So, you will be my girlfriend? Not that I was not committed totally to you before now.."

"Yes," I laugh, tilting my face up to look at his, though it's difficult due to the darkness. "It's me and you. And you know I'll stick by you.. you're all I have."

Then our lips meet, and it's sweet and slow and romantic, making my insides melt and my toes curl. It couldn't be more perfect.

"There is something I must ask you." he states, pulling away from our kiss. Suddenly, the warm and joyous feeling I had in my chest dissipates, and a cold finger of dread runs along my spine.

"Shoot." I respond, uncertainly.

"Well," he begins, stroking a hand across my hair. "My mother has insisted that I attend one of her parties.. and although the idea sounds ultimately dreadful, it would be an excellent opportunity to introduce you to my mother. It would postpone her matchmaking habits, at least."

I sit up and bite my lip, a dozen thoughts running through my head - none of them positive, mind.

"I-I don't think that's a good idea, d'you?" I fumble over my words, timidly. "You said yourself that your mom is kind of whack - I honestly don't think she'll react well if you bring me along."

"She doesn't has to know that you come from.."

"Come from where?" I bite, defensively. "The slums? The poor part of town? You really think she'll buy into a girl like me being brought up like you did?"

"You know that I do not care about where you live, that does not matter to me," he says, firmly. "But my mother would not approve. I want you to meet her, but I also don't want you to be subjected to her cruelty."

"So, what? We pretend that I'm some upper class princess? I don't want to be paraded around like some kind of trophy, Tobias." I snap.

"You don't have to make a decision now - the party is two days from now, and it is all on your own terms. I just thought it would be nice for you meet her. It would make it easier for the both of us."

"Oh, and how'd you figure that?"

"Well, if she was aware I had a girlfriend, and one that she would approve of, she might lay off me for a while. And that would make us being together that much easier." He explains.

"I dunno," I sigh, flopping back down onto the mattress. "I just don't think I'm ready to meet her. You understand, right?"

"Of course, but if you change your mind, just say the word." He answers, kind of dejectedly, kissing the side of my head.

It's a big step for us, and the question still remains - will I ever be ready?

 **-o-o-o-**

"So, he wants you to meet his mom.. why are you freaking out? I know that you ain't afraid of nothing. Especially not something this small." Echo points out, sliding my ice cream sundae across the counter.

"You don't understand," I sigh, pulling a hand through my hair. "His mom is a dragon lady, from what I know. Not to mention her Capitalist ideals; I wouldn't stand a chance!"

" _Capitalist_?" Echo whistles, eyeing me up and down. "You really have been hanging out with the lords and ladies, eh?"

"What's that's that supposed to mean?" I sit up straighter, my tone borderline defensive.

"Well, people having been.. _talking_ ," She explains, leaning in close and quietening down considerably. "I mean, you've been seen around that part of town a lot recently - folks have started to assume stuff, as you could guess."

"That's enough gossiping, Echo. I pay you as my waitress, not a social broadcaster," Tori interrupts, glaring at the red head. "Table 12 could use a wipe down - you know what to do."

Without another word - just an irritated look directed at Toi - she heads over to table 12.

"Is what she said true?" I ask, slowly. "I mean, are people talking about me around here? Because I've been up in the fancy side of town nowadays?"

"Don't listen to Echo. Nobody is talking about anything, don't you think on it got a moment."

"C'mon, Tori. I've known you long enough to be able to tell when you're lying to me - and we don't do that shit, right?" I prompt, raising an eyebrow.

"Lanagauge," she warns, but then sighs, conceding. "There has been a little gossip, being that nothing dramatic ever happens in this town, so they enjoy sticking their noses into other people's business. You know how it goes around here."

"What kind of gossip? What is everybody saying?" I press, chewing on my lower lip.

"Mindless chatter," she assures me, waving her hand. "You pay no attention."

"Yeah, just because they say you're a gold digger and a snob, doesn't mean you _actually_ are." Echo chips in, walking by with a tray of dirty dishes.

"Echo, really not helping." Tori exclaims, desperately.

"Oh," she winces, realising what she just said. "Sorry, I-I didn't mean.. well, we all know that it's not true."

"People are really saying that?" I ask, thickly, daring to glance around the sparsely packed diner, catching at least two customers staring at me. This is a small town, after all - word certainly does get around.

"I shouldn't have opened my mouth, stuff always comes out that makes everything much worse." Echo groans, apologetically.

"Enough about all that nonsense," Tori cuts in, sharply, and I don't dare push the subject any further. "Now, tell me more about this situation with your Tobias. I can help you."

"I doubt you'd be able to help me on this one. Can you just imagine it? Me slinking around after Tobias the whole time, while all these pretty girls are in expensive dresses, and what, I'll go in my maid uniform?" I groan, putting my head in my hands as Echo shuffles away.

"No, a'course not," Tori assures me, gently prising my hands away from my face. "We'll get you all dolled up in a real nice dress, I could get my friend up in the city to do your hair up all chic.. what's the worst that could happen?"

"I embarrass myself in front of everyone there, Tobias could never want to see me again, his mom could despise me, I could slip on a banana peel and-"

"What is the real problem here, Tris?" She cuts me off, suspiciously. "Don't try and kid me that this is some 'meet the parent' anxiety, because I ain't that stupid - what is really going on?"

"I just don't think I'm good enough for Tobias.. he's everything that I'm not. We're just so _different_. I like him - I really do - but at what price does it come at?" I admit, my shoulders sagging.

"You listen here - you are so good enough for that boy," Tori tells me, her dark eyes burning into my own with a strange intensity. "Just because you don't live in a stately home, or a mansion, or own a few dozen cars, does not make you any less of a person. You aren't your possessions. What is on the inside, counts for a whole lot more."

"Tobias has always made me feel like I belong, maybe not in his world, but just with him, and him alone. What we have is impossible, and I find myself wondering how long it'll last."

"C'mon, thinking so negatively about this won't make it any better," she scolds, poking my shoulder. "Pick yourself up and dust yourself off; you need to make a decision."

"I just don't wanna look like an idiot. I'll bet half the girls there will be all sophisticated and gorgeous and rich.. I'll look like a complete loser!" I exclaim, desperately seeking some comfort from her, knowing full well that I won't get it.

Tori has always been brutally honest. Loveable, sure. But there's no beating around the bush with her - when she's got something to say it, you bet your ass she'll say it. And I know that she won't patronise me, nor will she wipe away my tears and feed me ice cream. I kind of love that about her.

"This putting yourself down crap is getting old. Either you go for it and show Tobias that you are willing to put your feelings aside for the sake of his - just as he has done many times before for you - or you cower and run for the shadows." she shrugs, her voice firm but fair.

"Way to be nice about it." I mutter, but I know that she has a point.

"You have two choices in life, Tris - you can either be a chicken, or a champion. Make it count." She states, before ducking under the counter and heading for one of the tables waiting to order, neglected by Echo who is flirting with a dark haired boy at table 5.

Tori is right in what she was saying - Tobias has gone out of his way to please me more times than I can count, surely I should be able to do the same for him. It sounded as if this meant a lot to him, so it means a lot to me too. I can't let him down; he's had enough people do that in his life, and I don't want to make that list.

The bell chimes above the door, signalling the arrival of a new customer, and I turn absently to see who it is. A grin finds my mouth as I come to find that it Frank who has just entered the diner, but he isn't alone.

An elderly woman has accompanied him - she has short grey hair, thin as a pin, and is wearing a pastel coloured jumper. And judging by the way Frank is watching her, this isn't just a friendly companion.

Tori meets my eyes from across the diner, and gives a brief nod in confirmation. Still smiling, I head towards the back and grab a spare apron, tying it around my waist and picking up a pen and note pad too.

To my surprise, Frank is sitting in a completely different booth to his usual, and there is no framed picture in sight. In fact, he looks a lot smarter than I'd ever seen him before - his grey hair slicked back, his suspenders look new, and he is even wearing a tie.

With a practiced ease, I head over to their table, beaming.

"Tris?" He exclaims, looking up in surprise as I pause next to them both. "Why, I'll be damned. Where've you been, girl? Every time I come in here some loud red head has been my waitress. Lovely, no matter, but I always missed the little blonde."

"Good to see you too, Frank." I laugh, shaking my head. "It has been a while hasn't it? Would you care to introduce me to your lady friend?"

"This is Gretel Evans." He announces, smiling over at the old woman who sits opposite.

"Lovely to meet you, dear. You have very pretty hair, might I say." She says, extending a hand for me to shake, her eyes warm and genuine.

"Likewise.. I can't say that I've seen you around here. In these parts, everyone knows everyone, y'know."

"I just moved here, see. Up from Derry, Maine. There were large film crews swarming the area for the past year, and I have been thinking about moving anyway.. and this small town seemed quite the charmer." She explains.

"Well, welcome to our miniature corner of the world!" I laugh. "In fact, drinks are on the house. Take it as a welcoming present, eh?"

We catch up for a while before I take their orders and retreat back to the kitchen to drop them of to the one and only chef Tori hired - the old and very greasy, David.

He is a mildly elderly man, with a weird smile and these creepy eyes.. never been my favourite person to work with, I must he lurks around in the kitchen or out back, so I don't see him for longer than a few seconds with each order.

Before I know it, I'm working a dozen tables, getting back into the swing of things - carting around three trays of food like nothing. I may not be talented in a lot of things, but multi tasking is something I can do with ease.

After dropping off Frank and Gretel's after-coffees', I turn away from the table just as the bell jingles, signalling a new customer. Paying no attention, I wander back over to the counter, stifling a yawn with the back of my hand.

"You have a visitor," Echo tells me, gleefully, coming up behind me. "Table 19, back right corner."

I glance over to the said spot, and my eyes fall upon a tall, dark haired, and very handsome man sat at a table. I run my fingers through my hair in attempts to tame it slightly, before heading over to greet my unexpected visitor.

"Welcome sir," I tease as I pause beside his table. "What can I get for you this fine evening?"

"A tall glass of you would be just fine." Tobias grins, leaning back in his chair and looking me up and down.

"I was visiting Tori, and decided to help out for a while," I explain, tugging at the hem of my apron, before taking a seat opposite him. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to surprise you with flowers.. but I went to your house and you weren't there. This is the only other place I could think to look." He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Flowers? That's so sweet.. are they in your car?" I ask, puzzled.

"Er, not exactly," he admits, smiling sheepishly. "On the way back to my car - when I discovered that you were not home - I dropped the bouquet into a puddle."

"Idiot," I grin. "Listen... I made a decision. About the party tomorrow, I mean."

"Yeah?" He asks, apprehensively.

"I'll come with you," I offer, hesitating only a little. "You've done a lot for me the last few months, it's the least I can do."

"That's great news!" He beams, reaching across the table to take ahold of my hands. "But.. I don't want you to rush into anything on my behalf. Are you sure about this?"

"How bad can it be." I insist, weakly.

"You amaze me more every day," he admits, a child-like gleam in his blue eyes. "The fact that you would put your own fears aside, just to do something for me.. nobody has ever done that for me. Usually, it is the other way around, in fact."

"You deserve to be treated like that, y'know.. don't thank me, really. It's just what people do for each other - at least, where I come from. Besides, you've done so much for me, I owe you this."

"You owe me nothing," he counters, firmly, then his face softens. "I do it because I care for you. I do not ask for anything in return."

"I care about you too. Like, a lot." I laugh, trying to ease up on the serious tone this conversation has boardered on. I feel that if this continues, I'll slip up and say the three words that I've been suppressing. I don't want that to happen now - not in the middle of a busy diner, with Echo listening in eagerly. It has to be special.

Besides, getting rejected in public seems a lot scarier than in the privacy of each other's company; I'd positively die if he told me he didn't feel the same way. It would break my heart.

There's just so much at risk.

"Do you mind if I linger for a while? I have some work that needs doing, and I can get it done in here with a coffee. That way I can spend my evening with you.. if you don't already have plans, of course." He smiles, and my cheeks grow warm at the very sight.

"I was hoping you'd say that," I admit, biting my lip. "I'm gonna stick around and work for another hour or so, then we can head out? I'll go get your coffee - black, right?"

"That sounds wonderful. Go ahead, don't let me keep you from your work, _princess_." He adds, winking in such a way that a shudder runs through my body like an electric shock. _God damn_.

"Shut it, you." I chuckle, rolling my eyes and pushing my way up out of my chair. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away, and I have a strong feeling that his sight is set on my butt, so I make sure to sway my hips a little, a smirk on my lips.

"I dunno how you got so lucky," Echo comments as I approach the front counter, eyeing up Tobias like a predator. "That is one fine ass man."

"Eyes off, eh?" I admonish, bumping my hip against her own.

"Oh c'mon, I can look but not touch, right? It's hard not to stare at him! Look, half the girls in here are having trouble staying still in their seats." She exclaims, gesturing around, particularly to a booth full of teenage girls who are giggling and glancing his way every two seconds.

I can hardly blame them, she's right - Tobias is definitely a sight for sore eyes, with his chiseled features, olive skin, muscly arms..

"Funny, though," she grins, teasingly. "Because I can't count on two hands the number of girls staring him down, but his eyes are only on you. Looks like you've got a keeper there, _princess_."

"Oh, be quiet." I roll my eyes, shoving her slightly as I make my way into the back to whip up the coffee for Tobias.

By the time I have it ready to walk, I notice that he has his laptop out, and seems focused on the screen in front of him, which makes him look ten times hotter than before. He has rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, defining his muscles, and revealing his strong and golden forearms.

"I'll take that for you - table 19, I presume?" Echo chips in, sweetly, scooping up the coffee and sashaying away before I can blink. I can't help but notice how she fluffs her scarlet hair and sways her hips as she gets nearer, seemingly intent on impressing him. _My boyfriend._

Echo has always been a sweet girl, but this isn't the only time that she has shown different colours - in fact, a couple months back, a girl was in here crying her eyes out to a friend, because her boyfriend had cheated on her. With none other than Echo.

I didn't let it affect my opinion on the girl, but I have noticed changes since she began working here; not exactly good ones, either.

I watch, eyes narrowed, as she sets the coffee down - more suggestively than necessary - then tries to initiate in conversation. To my relief, Tobias is hardly interested, and doesn't even bother to look up from his computer screen.

Smiling to myself as Echo whirls away from him, I can't help but feel my jealously fade away with every step that girl takes; Tobias is a loyal man, I know that much.

"He's no fun," she huffs, moving to stand beside me behind the register. "Good for you, though - seems pretty loyal, I doubt you'll have to worry about him cheating."

"Not all guys are assholes," I remind her. "It may be hard to believe, but not every man will go for another woman who approaches him - maybe you just haven't met any decent people yet."

"You're telling me! I cannot wait to move away from this dump; I'll bet there are tons of hot and lovely guys in the city. You watch, I'll have a boyfriend in a week, tops."

"Enough of all this boy talk," Tori cuts in, irritably. "There are more important things in life, like serving customers? Echo - table 12 are all out of napkins, and Tris, a family of three just got seated at table three. Hop to it, the pair or you!"

Obediently, we separate to do our jobs - I hand out menus to the family of three, two women and a little boy, maybe only of three years, and take their drink orders.

The hour goes by rather quickly, until the dinner rush has calmed down, and there are only a few customers remaining.

"Thanks for your help today, Tris," Tori smiles as I take off my apron. "Just like old times, eh?"

"Yeah.. I never realised how much I missed it in here. Serving drooling babies and grumpy elderly people never gets old."

"Here's your pay for the day.." she begins, going into the register.

"What? No way!" I cut her off, shaking my head. "I only worked for a little while, there's no need to pay me. Save that up, make sure it goes to good use."

"You're a good girl, you know that, don't you?" She says, softly, raising her hand to touch my cheek.

"Yeah yeah," I laugh, pulling away. "I've gotta head out.. I'll see you soon."

"You make sure you come in here real soon, pay old Tori a visit. I have missed having you around all the time and remember.. your position will always be open if you ever want to come back. If the maid thing doesn't work out, you know where I am."

"I appreciate that, and I'll keep it in mind. Thank you." I reply, sincerely, before turning and wandering over to Tobias' table, where he is packing away his laptop.

"You get all your work done?" I ask, slipping my hand into his as he stands.

"Yes, now all I have to do is email a few documents to a few of my colleagues, and I will be all set." He answers, blessing me with an award winning smile.

"Now c'mon, I'm starving," I laugh, pulling him towards the exit. "Let's blow this popsicle stand."

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Finally a new chapter! Super sorry for the delay but I had a mean case of writers block, so if this chapter isn't up to standard I apologise profusely.**

 **Hopefully I'll be having the next chapter up a little sooner, and there will be lemons and fluff and even some angst! Stay tuned!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	21. AN

Hey guys, I know you were probably expecting an update from me, but this is more of an authors note - I'm not too sure whether I want to continue with this story, despite the success it has had since its publication. You guys have been so supportive of me throughout the whole writing process, but my motivation for this story is deteriorating, and my interest is no longer fully emersed in Frozen Truths.

However, I have been brainstorming a few new ideas and have some in mind; and I will also keep this story up on my account, so if I do decide to come back and finish this story I can do so easily.

Let me know what your thoughts are on this :)

-GuiltyMind


	22. Chapter 22

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 21 (Tris' POV)**

 **~M-RATED CONTENT AHEAD~**

 **-o-o-o-**

If it was a choice between shopping and diving into a swimming pool of cold vomit, I would definitely take the vomit. Especially if it was shopping with Christina - the kind of girl who views the mall as her Mecca; makeup and shoes being her guilty pleasure.

"Let's address the elephant in the room, shall we?" Christina suggests, lightly, sipping on her milky latte. "The party.."

"Do we really have to talk about that? I mean, I've tried to block the whole thing out of my memory." I admit, steadily.

"Just let me get this out," she insists, ignoring me. "Look, I was an awful friend that night. I didn't take your advice on staying sober - or at least taking it easy on the drink - and that made things so much worse."

"If you're talking about Al and his goons-"

"Actually, I'm not," she interrupts, dejectedly. "After you left, Will and I got into an argument.. a-and, well.."

"What is it?" I ask, concerned. "You know you can tell me, whatever it is."

She takes a deep breath, before spitting out, "I cheated on Will."

"Oh, Chris," I sigh, sadly. "What happened?"

"We started arguing about God knows what, and then I stormed off and headed for the kitchen for more drink," she begins. "There was this handsome guy just stood there by the vodka - one of Will's friends, I think. He'd only just arrived, see. He introduced himself.. and it went from there."

"How did it happen? I mean, did you two.. _y'know_?"

"No, it wasn't even deliberate, I barely knew what I'd done until it was too late," she states, miserably. "He kissed me, or maybe I kissed him. I don't know. But then Will was there, crying and yelling and kicking stuff over. I've never felt more awful in my whole life."

"I don't even know what to say.." I sigh, cradling my warm coffee in my hands.

"My mama would so ashamed." She mutters, ducking her head.

"What happened the next morning? Please tell me you apologised or something?" I plead, desperately.

"I did, over and over. He didn't want to hear it. He said he needed some time to think about it, about us. I've been crashing at Fernando's place ever since." Chris responds, solemnly.

"Who was this guy, anyhow?" I want to know. "One of Will's friends, you say?"

"Yeah, he had an odd name.. he seemed a little too stately to be there, in fact - Will knew him from some prep school."

"D'you even know his first name?" I ask, only half kidding.

"Like I said, it was a weird name," she defends, seemingly thinking it over. "Something like Ulmer.. Urien? Ura?"

Suddenly, I have a lump in my throat the size of a tennis ball - my mind flashes back to his hangover-like symptoms, the red and swollen state of his dark eyes.

"Uriah?" I supply, my voice identifiably unsteady.

"Uriah!" She exclaims, eyes lighting up in recognititon. "That's it! How'd you know that?"

"Oh, I read that name in an article somewhere, I just figured I'd give it a guess." I lie, smoothly; how would I explain my connection to Uriah without revealing my relationship with Tobias?

"I just can't believe I lost him.. he's the love of my life, and I fucked everything up over one drunken mistake!" She cries out, distraught.

"If he's the really the love of your life, he'll come back to you. If not, then maybe this was a long time coming. He isn't the only guy in the world." I reason, nibbling on my lip.

"It sure felt like he was," she counters. "I just don't know how to fix this."

"Just give it time.. we'll have a good time today - I'll keep my complaining to the minimum, and you can do some serious retail therapy. Overthinking it will make it so much worse, just trust me."

"I don't deserve a friend like you, Tris. Will told me that I yelled at you.. something about Rita?" She admits, sheepishly.

"Yeah, she was having a conversation with me and you went all psycho," I chuckle. "I tried to calm you down but you weren't having any of it - you were pretty out of it, so it's not a big deal."

"So we're okay, right?" She checks, somewhat apprehensively.

"Of course, no use holding grudges for shit, eh? Let's just leave that whole night behind us." I confirm, smiling.

"Oh thank God," she grins. "I don't think I could've handled losing my bestie too."

Before I can groan at her use of the word " _bestie_ ", an empty to-go cup lands in my lap, startling me.

"Woah, sorry about that! I wasn't looking where I was going, as usual.." A guy apologises quickly, grabbing the cup, clumsily.

Looking up, I survey his appearance - black hair, cropped short, average kind of height, with a sturdy build and striking green eyes. Cute, by all means.

"Tris is the same, always dropping stuff - undeniably clumsy, her." Christina chips in, and I give her an odd look; I'm definitely not clumsy, and she knows that.

"Your name is Tris?" He asks, looking back at me, a small smile on his lips now. "That's a unique name.. I like it. I'm Danny."

"And I should be going.. lots of shopping to do, not enough time in the world, y'know-"

"Nonsence," he cuts me off, his voice kind. "Let me buy you a coffee, at least. I like buying coffees for pretty girls."

"That's awful nice, but we really had better be going. Thanks for the offer, though." I decline, as politely as I can manage.

"At least take my number - just for future reference?" He adds, as I stand from my wooden chair.

My first instinct is to turn him down, but I reckon that it'd be easier to just take it and never use it. Maybe he'll leave faster. I feel a little mean for thinking that, but the only guy I'm interested in is Tobias. There's no room for anybody else.

"Ok, I guess there's no harm in a phone number." I admit, pulling out my cell. We switch phones and put in our digits, and I "accidentily" put in a few incorrect numbers.

"See you around, Danny." I smile, kind of awkwardly, gesturing for Christina to follow me out of the coffee shop.

"Yeah.. see you around." He confirms, beaming, watching us walk away. My cheeks are burning, and Christina's giggling isn't doing much to help subside my embarrassment.

"He was totally cute!" She exclaims, once out of earshot. "You even took his number, now that was surprising. I expected you to just blow him off."

"Yeah, he seemed pretty persistent; besides, I gave him a bullshit number." I laugh, shaking my head.

"What a waste," she mutters, dismayed. "He was hella handsome - I certainly wouldn't have given him a bogus number."

"Well, I'm not you." I retort, bumping my hip against hers.

"And I doubt Tobias would be keen on you getting another guy's number." She announces so casually, and I stop dead in my tracks, eyes wide.

"E-excuse me?" I stammer.

She stops and puts a hand on her hip, a knowing look set on her features. "Oh, c'mon. You think I don't know about the two of you?"

"I don't see how you could possibly know," I splutter. "Surely you were too out of it to realise it was Tobias who came and rescued me from that bathroom?"

"I was, but Will filled me in - told me how protective he was of you. Don't spin me the 'he's just my boss' lie either because I won't buy it." She explains, clicking her tongue.

"I wanted to tell you I just-"

"Don't even worry about it," she says, looping her arm into mine. "But to make up for not telling me sooner, you owe me information. No detail is too small."

"He's wonderful, Chris," I sigh, happily. "Everything just feels so.. right, with him. I've never felt like this before, like, ever."

"I'm so glad! If you told me any different, I would've chopped his dick off - despite him being my boss, n'all." She assures me.

"I've wanted to tell you for a while," I say, honestly. "It's all been perfect.. but now there's this party-"

"Party?" She questions, now paying even closer attention. "This is the occasion you need a dress for, I assume? The reason I've been dragged out of my den of empty ice cream cartons and tissues?"

"Exactly.. trouble is, the host is his mother. Not to mention, it's going to be full of all these upper class snobs, and I'm, well, _me_." I explain, nibbling on my lower lip.

"Having served that one party, I've had enough for a lifetime - and we weren't even guests!" Christina agrees, chuckling slightly.

Strolling through a shopping mall, talking about guys - this whole scenario is so familiar, in a memory of my high school days. We would all hang out here almost every weekend, eating at the same fast food places, talking about different boys each week, the same juvenile attitude present in our conversations. It never guy old, though. I feel like a teenager again, here with Christina.

"Why are you so stressy about his mom? Surely him wanting you to meet the folks is a good thing? It means he's serious about you twos." She points out, nudging me in the ribs, playfully.

"His mom isn't any regular parent; she's half dragon, half serpent. Not to mention her distaste for lower class citizens, especially when it comes to potential girls for her son."

"Then we'll dress you up, make you out to be an upper class rich bitch - and she'll love you!" Chris exclaims, as if it's so easy.

"But it's all lying," I protest, weakly. "Surely, I should meet her as myself? Why should I have to dress up to impress a bunch of stuck up old people?"

"Because that way you can be with Tobias, while having the approval of his mom," she shrugs. "It's just one night, right? Besides, it might be fun to act like one of them."

"It just doesn't seem right.. but I promised Tobias I would go - it seems as though this is important to him. I gotta come through."

"So, you're really serious about him?" She wants to know. "Like, this is the real deal?"

"It's a little early to say so, but I'm in it for the long run. And I really do think he is too." I shrug, my cheeks beginning to sting a little.

"That's great, but what about work? I mean, when we go back - how are you guys going to stay professional?"

"We definitely need to have that conversation," I state, quietly. "But we can adapt, make it work. It's worth the trouble."

"If he's so important to you, we'll have to get you sorted with a killer outfit for the party - nobody will question whether you belong there, they'll take one look and assume you're one of them. Just trust me."

Before I can get another word in, she grabs me by the wrist and drags me into the nearest store on our left. Over the next two hours, I am carted in and out of a variety of different stores - none of them stocking anything that I could wear to the occasion.

However, Christina has managed to purchase two pair of shoes, a cute purse, as well as a few new shirts. So it hasn't been a total loss; at least not for Christina.

"It's _useless_ ," I exclaim. "There is nothing that would really pass for a priceless, designer dress - therefore making me an obvious target. I might as well call the whole thing off! How am I supposed to show up looking like I usually do, eh?"

"Oh c'mon, stop stressing! There's still one more place - look." She assures me, pointing across the open space to a new-looking store.

"Divergent," I read off the sign. "Never even heard of it.."

"Me neither, until it got here. It's pretty trendy, but also kind of sophisticated.. at least, that's what I've heard." She shrugs, pulling me towards it.

Inside, the black marble flooring is shined up like a new penny, gleaming in the harsh overhead lighting. The aisles of fashion join together in a maze, each section full of quirky, sleek, comfortable, and even sophisticated clothing.

Unlike most of the other stores in the mall - of which the employed sales assistants dress like Hannah Montana and speak in this pretend-like enthusiastic tone of voice - the sales assistants here are all young and genuinely smiley, one even has a cool piercing in her right eyebrow.

There are a variety of customers too - male and female - and not just the cliche preppy teenagers that cause a loss in brain cells whenever they open their mouths.

"I'm impressed," Christina declares, nodding in approval as she also takes in the interior. "Trendy, not too stereotypical.. and a good array of clothes, it seems - I have a good feeling about this place. We're gonna find you something, I swear it."

Beginning to wander around, my eyes scan over the clothing, closely; there are quirky hooded sweatshirts, formal shirts, jean shorts with fraying ends, ripped denim pants and more. It's like an explosion of all different colours and textures and styles.

"Hey, there's some formal stuff - there must be something." Chris points up ahead, gesturing wildly to the entire section.

As she pushes through racks of sequinned gowns, I break away from my enthusiastic friend and go in search of something by myself. I'm not really sure what to look for, considering I don't usually go shopping for myself, or at all - Christina was talking about getting the right shade of a certain colour to compliment my other features, but usually I huddle myself in a long sleeved shirt and call it a day.

I'm not really that 'in' with what the fashion trends are, anymore. Even in high school, I never used to be on trend much; my friends would swoon over a pair of shoes in a magazine during lunch, while I wondered what the big fuss was.

I guess my priorities have always differed from the norms. The negative to that is the fact that I have no sense of direction when it comes to dressing myself up - do I wear pastels, darker shades? Heels, flats? It's all so complicated.

Mindlessly, I pace the aisles, searching only half heartedly; already given up on the idea of finding something even near to suitable. Just as I am about to call over to Christina to cancel the search, something catches my eye - a dress.

It's a lilac shade in colour and is a pretty modest length, though a little on the shorter side. The top half of the dress is lace detailed, while the rest poofs out like a cloud. It's simplistic, yet elegant; not to mention, not very pricey, despite what it looks like.

"Hey, Tris, I saw a real cute purse back there-" Christina stops as she arrives at my side, cut off abruptly as she laid eyes on the dress.

"D'you like it?" I ask, slowly. "I mean, it's pretty.. the colour's nice, y'know?"

"I _love_ it!" She pratically squeals, grabbing it from the rail, in my size, conveniently. "It would totally suit you. C'mon, let's hit the dressing rooms!"

We manage to locate a moderately sized dressing room, and she shoves me into a cubicle with the dress, encouraging me to try it on so she can see. As requested, I change out of my usual clothes and slip into the dress, adjusting it in all the correct places.

I snap open the curtain, and Christina's jaw falls open.

"You.." she trails off, her surprised expression slowly cracking with a large grin. Taking my hand, she leads me over to the large mirror that covers the whole wall, and allows me to get a look.

She was right - it does suit me, in ways that clothes never have before. The colour goes perfectly with my hair, and the length isn't at all short enough to make me feel uncomfortable, but enough to show the majority of my legs.

"Tris." Chris prompts, her eyes lit up with pride - like a mother watching her daughter grow.

"What is it?" I ask, anxiously, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

She grins then, weaving her fingers into mine. "You've got this."

 **-o-o-o-**

"Hey, Tris," Tobias calls out, knocking softly from the other side of the bathroom door. "I am going to head downstairs, to make sure that everything is locked up and secure before we leave. Come down when you are ready."

"I'm almost done." I assure him, carefully pplying another coat of mascara.

"Take your time, we have a good twenty minutes before we need to leave." He then responds, and I faintly hear his footsteps walking away from the door.

He is yet to see me in my dress, and to say that I'm nervous is a complete understatement - Christina reassured me over and over that it looks great, I just hope he sees it the same way. It shouldn't matter, but I can't help but value his opinion.

I step away from the large mirror overhead of the sink, and take in my appearance one last time - making sure that my makeup is ok, and that there is nothing wrong with the dress. Then I slip on the lilac heels that we managed to find in a thrift store, but go with the dress perfectly and without issue.

I force myself to leave the bathroom and the master bedroom, tackling the stairs cautiously with my heels.

Presumably hearing the click against marble, Tobias arrives at the foot of the staircase, his sapphire eyes wide. Self consciously, I make my way down, knowing my cheeks are flushed scarlet. Reaching the last step, he holds me in place, leaning back to look me up and down, a smile taking over his face.

"What?" I ask, kicking him lightly in the knee cap.

"I just.." he trails off, seemingly dazed. "You were already gorgeous but.."

Leaning forward, I peck his lips softly, and then move around him quickly, causing him to groan.

"We need to get going soon, we don't wanna be late, eh?" I remind him, playfully.

"We have plenty of time." he counters, advancing towards me, a hungry look in his eyes - one that I've only ever seen once before, when we were making out on the counter.

Gently - yet with force - he pins me against the nearest wall by my waist, his fingers wrapping around my hip bones. His lips trace my jaw, then dip down to my neck, and my collarbones.

"You look so beautiful, did I tell you that already?" He murmurs, pulling back to look into my eyes, biting his lip slightly.

" _Shhh_ ," I answer, pulling him closer by his Hugo Boss suit jacket. "Just kiss me."

And then he does, and it's some sort of relief. I sigh, and feel a wicked smile creep across his face. His lips are incredibly talented, and are known for leaving me weak at the knees. This occasion being no exception to that, of course.

He smells like cologne and soap and safety - being with him, in his arms like this, always makes me feel safe, no matter the circumstances.

" _Fuck_ ," he curses, pulling away to nibble at my jaw. "I would give anything just to stay here with you.. getting cosy, rather than go to a moronic party."

I shiver at the suggestive tone in his voice - I must admit, there have been less than innocent thoughts present in my mind recently; having him talk like that and touch me so intimately is making them harder and harder to supress.

"We've gotta' go, as much as I'd love to stay here, just us two.." I admit, letting my head rest against the wall as he moves his lips down to my neck; his tongue probing the skin gently.

"Don't tempt me." He groans, his left hand sliding down to my butt, gripping it firmly as he continues his ministrations on my neck.

"We still have a little time, right?" I spurt out, breathless, before I can even think about what I'm proposing. He stops and pulls back, searching my eyes for signs of seriousness, I assume.

"I'm not taking that the wrong way, am I?" He checks, seemingly anxious. "I don't want to pressure you into anything you don't want to do. I understand if you would rather wait-"

Grabbing him by the back of his neck, I guide his mouth back to mine - silently consenting. The fact that he was so willing to wait for me urges me to go through with this; he's a great guy, and I need him more than words can say.

He's driving me crazy.

As we make out, the hand that isn't gripping my butt, slowly works it's way under the skirt of my dress, only hesitating slightly. I gasp against his mouth when his fingers brush my heat, only the thin lace fabric of my panties seperating us.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, resting his forehead against mine, his minty breath hot against my face.

"I've never been more sure of anything." I respond, wriggling my hips, causing him to groan slightly.

In a matter of seconds, he has pushed my panties aside, and I can't help but moan as his long fingers make contact with my bare heat. I know that I am dripping wet, and although it shouldn't be embarrassing, I am aware that I'm blushing like an idiot.

The pleasure comes in waves, enciting moan after moan, all at his fingertips.

"Fuck." I mutter, balling up my fist and slamming it into the wall behind me.

He catches my lips with his once more, increasing the pressure of his fingers as he circles my sensitive bud, using them like an expert. Slowly, his long middle finger slips inside me, and I arch my back instinctively.

Adding a second finger after a moment, he begins to slide them up and down slowly - quickening his pace steadily. I grind my hips against his hand, my vision slightly blurring through the intense pleasure holding each and every nerve hostage.

"You feel sensational." He groans, his free hand gripping onto my hip as he attacks my neck with his lips.

"Don't stop." I plead, biting down on my bottom lip in an attempt to contain my noises. This doesn't please Tobias, however; he pulls away from my neck and uses his thumb to release my lip, placing a passionate kiss there instead.

"It is just us here, you know," he reminds me, intentionally slowing down his fingers, teasing me. "Let go.. don't hold back - your little noises are the sexiest thing I have ever fucking heard."

With those words, he speeds up again, his azure eyes staring deep into my own, drawing me nearer to the edge of oblivion.

"T-Tobias." I stammer, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten with every second. "I-I'm so close-"

"Come for me, Tris," he purrs into my ear. "Let go..."

Hearing his deep and alluring voice so close to my ear, mixed with the intense eye contact and wonderous stimulation provided by his fingers, is enough to tip me over the edge completely. A symphony of moans escape my mouth, and I continue to move my hips against his hand, riding out the powerful orgasm.

"Jesus." I hear Tobias growl, before attaching his lips to my neck once more.

Coming down from my high, I let my head fall onto his shoulder, attempting to catch my breath. After a moment, I feel Tobias slowly remove his fingers, righting my panties as they were before.

Pulling away enough to look at him, I watch as he sucks the juices from his fingers, his eyes sparkling.

"I simply cannot wait to do that again when we have got all the time in the world," he grins. "But we are already running behind schedule. Perhaps you could spend the night.."

"You read my mind." I smile, lazily, still high from the aftershocks.

"Shall we?" He asks, stepping away from me and extending his arm for me to take. Taking a deep breath, I grab onto his arm and ignore my shaky legs, allowing him to lead me towards the front door and outside.

I frown slightly, spotting a shiny black Porsche a little way down the driveway - and my confusion only increases when a nicely-dressed man gets out from behind the wheel.

"Mother arranged a car for us," Tobias explains, noticing my perplexed look. "Oddly considerate, really; this way we can both have a drink, without having the concerns of travelling home."

"This is it, I guess." I state weakly, trying for a smile but not faring well.

"Stop panicking," Tobias scolds, gently, reaching for my hand. "This is going to go exceptionally well - mother will adore you, just as I do. You look gorgeous, and no one would guess that you were anything but a lady of a large estate."

"Don't joke," I roll my eyes, slapping him on the arm gently, but it did make me smile a little. "If this goes terribly wrong.."

"It will not, I am certain of it! Now, are we going to stand here all day, or shall we get going? Sooner we go, the sooner we get back - and I have a lot of surprises hidden up my sleeve." He points out, suggestively, smirking.

"Lets crush this _soiree_." I grin, putting on my best posh accent.

It's all good and well cracking jokes now, but there's a sick feeling of anxiety pooling in my stomach, and I just know that something bad is surely to happen.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **AN:**

 **So I read all of your reviews and PM's regarding my important update with regards to this story, and just seeing how supportive and understanding you all are is enough to motivate me to finish off this story, perhaps a little shorter than I intended, though!**

 **This chapter was awfully short for my standards, but the next chapter is going to be packed full of everything you guys love - lots of fluff and angst - and unfortunately some trouble in paradise for our favourite couple :(**

 **Side note - I hope my small piece of smut was okay, I don't often write in an M-style, so forgive me if it isn't up to par just yet!**

 **Thank you so much for all the support you have all given me, I hope to continue pleasing you all with the ending chapters to this story, as well as my future stories too.**

 **\- GuiltyMind :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 22 (Tris' POV)**

 **-o-o-o-**

The house itself looks like a cut out from a posh Architecture magazine of sorts. It's beautiful, but not in the small and homely way that I'm usually fond of - everything is "geometric" as Tobias put it, though I am not too sure what that word actually means.

The roof is pretty flat, and the door is as wide as it is tall. The windows take up entire walls, with only polished steel beams to break them into yet more rectangles. The look would be entirely metallic, like a mini upper class skyscraper, if not for the cedar beams of the exterior porch.

"Mother had this house constructed especially for parties and so forth; hired the best exterior and interior designers that money can buy." Tobias tells me as we ascend the steps to the grand porch.

"For real?" I ask, my eyes wide. "That's crazy!"

"Indeed.. my mother has always been rather eccentric - she is certainly a lot to handle, but I expect she will be quite serene tonight." He assures me, though the tone in his voice contradicts his words.

Before he can reach for the handle on the front door, I grab his hand in mine, getting his attention.

"What if she doesn't like me?" I ask, anxiously, nibbling on my lower lip.

"She couldn't possibly not like you," Tobias insists, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. "We do not exactly have the best relationship, but I think she will be happy for me. But if not, it does not change a thing between us."

I disagree, but don't have the energy to argue my case, so I just give him a watered-down smile instead.

Then he pushes the door open, and we step into some kind of parallel version - somehow it is grander than I had envisioned; a crystal chandelier, servers in crisp tuxes with silver platters of food and flutes of champagne, women in beautiful gowns, and men in equally attractive suits. The lighting is warm, yet there is something daunting about the yellow-toned glow that captures the impressive entrance hall.

There is a sever on us right away - a young man in a down-graded tux, and a bright yet forced smile - and I immediately feel for him; I've been in his position, no one must know about that, though.

"Can I get you a beverage? Some refreshments?" He asks, as if the charade was rehearsed beforehand.

"I shall take a scotch, the best you have," Tobias answers, giving the boy a genuine smile, his tone light and friendly. "And you, Tris?"

"A martini," I answer, mimicking his posh accent and reciting what I practiced with Christina earlier. "Gin, not vodka - obviously - stirred for ten seconds while glancing at an unopened bottle of vermouth."

"Certainly." The server smiles, amused by my answer, before moving along to get our drinks.

"Where did that come from?" Tobias grins, once out of earshot. "Here is me expecting you to ask for a cider of sorts."

"I have a lot of hidden talents, see - one being how to order a martini in style." I joke, giving him a discreet wink.

"Living proof of the cautionary tale, 'never judge a book by its cover'. You certainly are just full of surprises." He plays along, easing my nerves slightly - maybe it won't be too bad, if Tobias is beside me the entire time.

"Tobias, Tris!" A feminine voice exclaims, and we turn simultaneously to see Hanna approaching, beaming. "How lovely to see you both - and Tris, might I say, you look splendid! Such a beauty!"

"Oh, this old thing." I joke, tugging at the hem.

I then spot Uriah and Zeke conversing a few feet away with two women - maybe only a few years older than me - and my heart sinks at the sight of the youngest Pedrad brother.

Just looking at him makes me think of him and Christina.. her betraying will in the cruelest way possible, and with a total stranger.. at least, he is a stranger to her.

"Evelyn will be impressed," she adds. "Such a magnificent gown.. I hope she pays you the upmost respect. If she is capable of such a thing."

"Hanna, I do not think this is the time nor the place." Tobias cuts in, his voice stern but his eyes amused.

"No, I suppose not, but watch your step, Tris - you have just stepped into the lions den, and you play the part of the fresh meat. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I confirm, slowly, fully comprehending her analogy. "I'll do my best, but y'all are so different from what I'm used to."

"I appreciate that, simply be yourself. But perhaps it is best to not use phrases such as y'all.." she advises, kindly, trying not to sound too harsh.

"Right," I agree, awkwardly. "Um, I'll try and use some proper vocabulary, if I can manage it."

She is right - I've been thrown into a lions den, and it's up to me to manage my survival. It's a strange way to look at it; but in the animal world, I would be at a great disadvantage, just as I am now.

"We should go and mingle, we will see you later on this evening, I presume?" Tobias chips in, securing an arm around my waist.

"Certainly - make sure Tris is welcomed appropriately, especially by your mother." Hanna warns, pointing a perfectly manicured nail at my boyfriend, threateningly.

"Aye aye, Captain." He jokes, before steering me away, his fingers splaying out across my hip.

"You think your ma will seriously be that bad to me?" I ask, quietly, nerves beginning to creep across my skin again.

"Pay little attention to Hanna - she has never liked my mother, and is frightened that she will drive you away.." He admits, taking a long drink from his glass.

"You think?" I ask, both curious and anxious.

"Well, I would like to think that what we have is stronger than my mother." he answers, evasively, not quite looking me in the eye.

"Listen up," I order, pulling him into a secluded-enough corner to give us some privacy. "I don't want you bullshitting me on this - if she's going to give me hell, I wanna know about it. So just tell me the truth. All of it."

"Ultimately, I have no way to confidently estimate her reaction; she can be extremely unpredictable, which inhibits one from guessing her next move - I wish I could give you a definite answer, Tris." He relents, dejectedly.

"It's not your fault, stupid," I tell him, subtly taking his hand in my own. "I understand.. it's just hard for me, y'know? It's the first time I'm meeting your mom, and I don't exactly fit in with your type'a folks."

"I am kind of surprised you are even here," he chuckles, nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I could not have blamed you if you suddenly decided that I was not worth all of this effort."

"You're worth a whole lot more to me than you think." I declare, softly, my eyes burning intensely into his, trying to convey how serious I am - does he not understand how deeply I care for him?

He looks like he might say something else, but out of nowhere Zeke has appeared, throwing an arm around his shoulders, grinning.

"What's up, love birds?" He teases. "Did I crash something important?"

"Where is Uriah?" Tobias asks, ignoring his light-hearted question.

"He had to take a call from some chick he met at a party the other week - apparently there was some drama that came with their hookup.. I don't know, man." He responds, gesturing towards the French doors that lead out onto some kind of brightly-lit patio.

Instantly, the image of Uriah and Christina pops up on the forefront of my mind, and there's an unforgiving lump in my throat; poor Will, I can't imagine how heartbroken he must be.

"By the way, a girl was looking for you," Zeke adds, looking at Tobias with glassy eyes - had too much to drink, by the looks of it. "The cute red head, remember?"

As if on a rehearsed cue, a girl appears at Zeke's side, grinning and revealing a set of bright, white teeth. She has shoulder-length fiery hair, with these big brown eyes that are busy roaming over my boyfriend, appreciatively.

Her dress is clearly designer, and hugs her curves fantastically; and my eyes seem to be drawn to the diamonds around her neck, and I feel my heart drop into my stomach.

"Tobias!" She exclaims, genuinely excited to see him. "It has been a while, but you seem to be handsomer than the last time we were aquatinted. Have you been working out at all?"

I can't help but notice the flirty tone in her sickly sweet voice, and a stab of jealousy twists in my stomach, and I discreetly grit my teeth.

"It is a pleasure, Lavender," Tobias answers out of politeness, though his smile seems real enough. "Though, it has not been at all long. A month, at most."

"Still, it is wonderful to see you again!" She beams, batting her eyelashes.

"Lavender, I do not believe you have been introduced to my girlfriend," Tobias states, wrapping an arm around my side. "Tris Prior."

"Nice to meet you. Lavender, is it?" I respond, determined to appear civil - even though my first instinct is to make my true feelings known.

"Girlfriend?" She echoes, eyes wide. "I adore your dress, it is.. _quaint_."

"Quaint?" Zeke chuckles, seemingly amused. "I think the word you are looking for is _hot_."

"I was thinking of a more appropriate term," she snaps, but her tone remains light. "Perhaps, _cute_?"

"Cute? That kind of vocabulary is not something I would use when referring to myself, but whatever inadequate phrases please you, I suppose." I shoot back, plastering a false smile onto my lips, one that I'm sure she can see straight through.

"Hmm, you seem to know plenty of proper English - enlighten me on what qualifies you to-"

"Lavender, how about a dance?" Zeke cuts in, who even in his drunken stupor can sense a dangerous end for this conversation.

"What a good idea," Tobias encourages, tightening his hold on me. "It was grand to see you again, perhaps we will get the chance to talk in more detail later this evening?"

"I look forward to it," she responds, brightly, before casting a dark look in my direction. "Goodbye, Tris, I wish you both the best in this new relationship."

"That's unlikey." I mutter under my breath as Zeke leads her away, shooting us an apprehensive look over his shoulder.

"What was that about?" Tobias wants to know, as soon as they are out of earshot. "Lavender is harmless - I hoped you two would get along."

"Why's that? I didn't realise the two of you were so close." I retort, raising an eyebrow.

"We aren't; the last time mother threw one of these intolerable parties, we were attempted to be set up. Of course, I declined because I had feelings for you." He informs me.

Normally, my heart would positively swell at the idea of him turning down another girl on account of me - but this girl is everything that I am not. She would've been great for him.

"She definitely seems to have taken a liking to you." I add, bitterly, unable to stop myself.

"Are you jealous?" He grins.

"No," I lie, stoutly. "I just don't like the way she was looking at you. But don't think for a second that I believe she's only interested in you as a _friend_."

"Well, do not think for a second that I would be remotely interested in anyone but you." He responds, swiftly, and I can't help but smile a little. He always knows how to say the right thing.

"Would you care for a dance?" Tobias offers, a handsome smile present on his features.

"Um, I don't really dance.." I chuckle, nervously.

"I can teach you," he encourages, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before taking my hand. "Come on, you aren't going to make me dance alone, are you?"

"I have two left feet, seriously - put me on a dance floor in heels.. it would not be a nice ending." I attempt to protest, but I'm letting him lead me towards the crowd of couples slow dancing, like in one of those old romantic, rustic movies.

"Just follow my lead and you shall do fine, stop worrying." He insists, placing his hand on my hip, and raising our hands that are already joined in midair.

Anxiously, I place my hand on his shoulder, unsure of where to touch him in such a classical dance - surely there's some kind of protocol, right?

"Relax," he says into my ear, his husky voice causing me to shiver. "I've got you, let the music be your guide - one step forward, two steps back, got it?"

"Right." I confirm, awkwardly, my heart racing fifty miles a minute.

The song changes to a slow melody, with a male voice accompanying the beat, oddly soothing. Giving me a reassuring smile, Tobias takes a step back with grace, and I follow, blindly.

As we continue to move, the steps become easier, and I find myself fully relaxing, leaning in to him. It's pretty fun, I admit - kind of therapeutic, and being this close to Tobias - smelling his ever-enciting cologne - is also a plus.

The whole time, his crystal orbs are locked on mine, unyielding; making my knees weaker than ever. Every step we take, we just keep on getting better. My nerves have completely dissipated, and it's like it's just the two of us and the music.

He then easily spins me around, clawing a laugh from my mouth at my clumsiness as he does so, and I admire the smile on his mouth too.

As we continue to waltz, he begins to murmur along to the song, still looking at me with such an intense gaze that it is causing my head to spin.

Suddenly, a hand is on Tobias' arm, halting us from continuing. Lavender - of course - with an apologetic-looking Zeke behind her.

"Mind if I cut in?" She asks me, nicely enough, her dark eyes glinting in the light.

Tobias catches my eye, silently pleading with me to stay, but I don't want to seem hostile - the last thing I need is to make a bad impression, and I trust Tobias. Trouble is, I don't trust _her_.

"Not at all." I answer, as civilly as I can manage. After pecking Tobias' lips in a farewell, I take Zeke's offered hand.

"I tried to stop her," he tells me, sympathetically. "But she wouldn't listen.. don't worry, though. Tobias is crazy about you - Lavender has no place in his life, whereas you take the cake. Trust me on that."

"It's just a dance." I shrug, trying to seem casual.

"Right," he agrees, jovially, placing a friendly hand on my hip. "I have to warn you - I'm kind of a professional at this, so I may just put you to shame."

"I'm sure." I chuckle, beginning to follow his lead.

I look over his broad shoulder to get a glimpse at Lavender and Tobias, out of instinct; thankfully, they seem to be keeping it a friendly dance, distancing themseleves quite enough. Although it does not look at all threatening to me, I don't like it. Not one bit. Does that make me a bad person?

I don't know why I'm feeling such jealousy - I've never experienced that kind of thing before. I guess, I've never had so much to lose before, and the idea of someone else being capable of stealing Tobias away is too much for me to handle.

And there's that horrible voice in my head warning me off, telling me to get away from this party as soon as possible - I don't fit in here, that much is obvious. Lavender does, though; with her genuine posh accent, and I'm assuming a rich family and heritage.

Maybe that's why it's sending alarm bells off in my head - maybe I know deep down that she's much more suited for Tobias than I am. I have such strong feelings towards him.. but is that enough?

After a minute or so, the song ends and Zeke releases me, smiling.

"Not bad for a rookie," he jokes. "My feet are a little sore, bleeding most likely-"

"Be quiet," I laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully. "I didn't stand on your feet that much."

"Word is that mother is looking for me.. or us, for that matter," Tobias says, suddenly arriving at my side, weaving his fingers through my own. "We had better make our presence known, at least. Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." I shrug, squeezing his hand a little harder.

"Good luck." Zeke comments, smirking, before slipping away through the crowd.

We don't have to look for long - we manage to locate her in the grand hall, sipping on a glass of deep crimson wine, gossiping with a group of middle-aged women.

"The one in the middle is my mother," Tobias tells me, subtly pointing her out to me. "With the green dress, do you see?"

I didn't even need his help - sharing the familiar hooked nose that I've seen many times, and her bright blue eyes.. yes, that is most definitely Tobias' mom.

She has shoulder length aurburn hair, that has been styled expertly - presumably by someone professional, unless she is able to pull of such an extravagant hairstyle by herself - and my eyes are drawn to the jewellery she wears; a pearl necklace, diamond-encrusted bangles and beautiful rings that all glint in the light provided by the priceless chandelier above us. Her gown is a rare shade of dark green, complimenting the olive-tone of her skin. Glamorous, to say the least.

"Mother." Tobias greets as we approach, rubbing a few reassuring circles on the back of my hand.

"Tobias," she exclaims, moving away from the gaggle of women. "How grand to see you again, my son. I am so glad that you could make it this evening. It has been so long."

"Indeed," he answers, uncomfortably. "You look.. significantly well."

"I feel well - my private doctor has prescribed me with a rather expensive wrinkle cream-" she abruptly stops what she was saying as her eyes shift towards me.

"My, who is this? I do not believe we have been acquainted before now." She says, her eyes roaming from head to toe, calculating her next move.

"Lovely to meet you, my name is Tris Prior. I have heard a lot about you." I introduce myself, politely, making sure my posture is right as I extend my hand.

"Evelyn Johnson," she returns. "I assume you have attended with my son? I must say, you look rather familiar."

"This is my girlfriend," Tobias declares, confidently. "And I do not think it be possible that you would know Tris, she only just moved here."

"Is that right?" She asks, the underlying danger in her voice masked with a false sweetness. "Where did you move from?"

"Washington," I blurt out, improvising. "Washington DC, miss. My family owns a large estate there, but I thought it would be extraordinary to visit new places and live independently."

"How charming," Evelyn responds, her eyes glowing. "Tobias, dear, why don't you run along and get your girlfriend here a drink while we get to know each other?"

"But-"

"Now, please." She interrupts him, her voice firm and serious.

Shooting me a helpless look, Tobias turns and leaves the room, and my eyes follow his retreating figure, dread settling in the pit of my stomach.

"What do you say we retreat out onto the terrace, it is terribly loud in here." Evelyn suggests, turning to face me directly, an unreadable expression on her pretty face. She says it like I have a choice in the matter - but God knows that I have to follow whatever this woman wants.

So as requested, we wander out onto the beautifully-constructed terrace that overlooks the gardens out back, lit by modern flood lights.

"You have a lovely house." I say, breaking the silence that has settled between us.

"Thank you, I had the best architects in the world hired for the construction and designing - I have a spectacular eye for design, however the input was eye opening." Evelyn smiles, her blue eyes scanning the gardens. "Tobias wanted to be a designer at one point, I am sure - a graphic designer. Though I directed him towards a more productive line of work in Business." She adds.

"He did?" I ask, intrigued.

"He has not told you much about himself, has he?" She asks, her calculated crystal orbs now concentrated on me.

"Well, we're still learning." I shrug. "We have not really been together all that long."

"He seems enamoured with you," she points out. "The way he looked at you, being the judge. And I had not quite expected him to be so forward in your introduction."

"He is a great man, you raised him excellently." I lie through my teeth - I know all about his past, and how his mom never stopped his dad from abusing him. But I can't let her know that.

"Tell me about yourself," she encourages, ignoring my last statement. "What about your family? You said they owned a large estate in Washington?"

"My parents are no longer around, so my brother took over the running of the estate; he was capable of doing it alone - thriving, in fact - so I decided to move away with the money my parents left behind." I lie, trying to make it sound as convincing as possible.

"You sure do make an excellent liar," Evelyn chuckles, and I freeze. "I know who you are and what you do for my son - a house maid, is it not?"

"I-uh," I stammer, caught off guard.

"I do not tolerate liars," she spits, her somewhat civil persona gone. "Especially not in my son's significant other."

"Why do you even care?" I shoot back, angry. "We're happy.. isn't that what matters?"

"You have ruined everything, do you see? Lavender Dawson would have been an exceptional match - but you had to intervene and fill his head with darkness."

"His love life is none of your concern." I declare, firmly, standing my ground.

" _Love_?" She sneers. "Whatever is occurring between the two of you is not love, mark my words."

"What would you know? You don't care about him." I protest, my blood beginning to boil.

"I am his mother, if you had forgotten," she reminds me, haughtily. "I know what is best for him, or who, for that matter. And you are poisonous, destined to ruin him. If you really care for my son, let him go."

"You're joking, right?" I deadpan, but I know she's completely serious - deadly, in fact.

"Listen, sweetie," she begins, her eyes stiff and cold as they pierce into my own. "I want to make myself very clear - I may not agree with the way Tobias lives his life, but I will not stand by and watch you destroy him."

"Why can't you just be happy for us? Or at least, for him?"

"Because he does not know what he is getting himself into! He cannot see clearly, don't you see?" She hisses.

"Tobias is a grown man, he can make his own decisions." I argue, shakily.

"If you truly care for him," she says, her voice softening for a moment. "You will get out of this little relationship as soon as possible - he is destined for great. A large inheritance, a promising career, the opportunity to live in wealth and fortune."

I swallow hard, understanding where she may be going with this hard-hitting point.

"And you? Well, you are destined to live out your days serving the upper class, barely scraping by. With a disfunctional educational background, and a few small-paying jobs. Do not bring him down on your journey to rock bottom; let him live the better life, a life without you."

"You don't get to decide for him!" I fight back, ready to implode completely. "You are a vile woman. You stood by while your husband beat your own son, locked him into closets and knocked him out cold. And you're trying to tell me that I'm messing his life up? _You_ did that already!"

Her hand cracks across my face, snapping it back with the force of the blow. My cheek stings, and my eyes begin to water as I stagger backwards for a brief moment, clutching my face.

"I do not think you fully understand what I am saying," she spits, getting close to my face. "The power I possess is beyond your imagination. I could ruin you, make it certain that you would never work again."

"And you'd really go to such extremes? Tobias would never forgive you-"

"He could be easily persuaded," she cuts me off, confidently. "I am his mother; you are simply a pastime, you are simply temporary. I will be here permanently."

"Why are you doing this?" I ask, my voice quiet and shaky.

"Because I protect my own, despite your morionic accusations - you have been falsely informed. Tobias has always been my priority, and always will be. He is my _son_."

"What is this really about?" I sass, straightening up. "Is it about you not liking who I am, or is it you not liking where I come from."

"The latter," she tells me through gritted teeth. "You lower class leaches do not deserve our generosity, our company. I do not trust your motives, being so unfortunate in your life - so, what is in it for you? My son, or his money?"

"I don't have motives." I state, honestly.

"Everybody has motives." She smiles, mockingly.

"Maybe in your world, but in mine folks do things out of kindness and good grace, not out of selfishness." I retort, agressively.

"I have been informed of your past," Evelyn admits, leaning against the stone rail of the balcony. "Of your shattered family - the dead parents, the disloyal brother.. you can practically chart and map the cracks. Not to mention your dropping out of education, and the reputation of partying, smoking, drinking underage. Oh, and the stealing, giving you a criminal record-"

"How'd you know all that?" I ask, taken aback.

"It is rather easy to find out information about people, especially when you are in a position as high as myself." She answers, smugly.

"See, this is why you people are so fucked up," I exclaim. "Judging people like me from your ivory towers, with no thought about why we do what we do. We haven't got much of a choice."

Without waiting for a response from the blue-eyed serpent, I spin on my heels and elbow my way back into the house where all the guests are happily conversing amongst themselves.

A tear slips down my cheek as I make a beeline for the front door, and I wipe it away, angrily, with the back of my hand.

"Tris?" Uriah appears out of nowhere, grabbing me by the arm. "Tris, what's going on? Why are you upset?"

"Let me go. I'm going home." I protest, yanking my arm away from his grip.

"Wait-" he calls after me, but I don't stop, just quicken my pace.

I grab the handle for the front door and pull, letting myself out, and bolt down the steps.

"Tris!" A deep voice shouts after me - the one person I didn't want to see right now. It's going to make this so much harder.

"Leave me alone, Tobias!" I yell, not even bothering to turn around as I continue my getaway.

Running footsteps crunch on the gravel behind me, and a hand closes around my wrist, pulling me backwards. Being forced to turn around, his blue eyes are full of panic and dread and confusion, making me feel even worse about this whole thing.

"Tris, please, don't walk away from me," he pleads, cupping my face in his large hands, his voice hoarse. "I do not know what she said to you back there, but you mustn't believe a word of it."

"I can't be here," I exclaim, pushing him away from me. "Just leave me alone. I never should've come, I shouldn't have even agreed in the first place. I knew it'd all go wrong-"

"Don't give up on me, on _us_." He begs, desperately.

"Us? What us?" I laugh, hysterically, but finding no humour in it whatsoever. "Your mom was right - I'm no good for you."

"Don't you dare say such a thing! You have made me feel things I never thought possible, you have made a new kind of happy. Before you, my life was dull and empty and.."

"Don't make this harder than it already is, please." I yell, managing to struggle out of his grip and turn away.

"I love you!" He shouts. "I love you.. I do, please stay. You cannot just walk away, not after everything. Please."

I freeze in my tracks, every part of me aching to be in his arms, my heart screaming at me to stay, to cherish the man who has been my rock for the past few months - the only one who has made me truly feel alive. But my head is forcing me forward, warning me to stay away, to not mess up his life more than I already have.

"Love?" I echo, flatly. "Love is a meaningless four letter word."

"Can you just listen to me for a minute? Tris, if you care for me - even just a little - then hear me out."

Reluctantly, I turn to face him, though we are a good few feet apart, and sigh.

"You've got one minute." I concede, coldly.

"I know that tonight is going to hurt us, and it's going to hurt _you_. But we can get through this, I know it. I don't care what mother or anybody else thinks about us, I just care about _you_. I love you. And you might think it's stupid or meaningless but I do not throw those words around lightly - I mean it, seriously. Please, _please_ , just tell me you feel the same. We can work through this, just stay. All you need to do is stay."

I let this sink in for a moment - do I love Tobias?

My heart thumps whenever he is near me, he is my first thought in the morning and the last at night; as well as each inbetween. I get this weird warm feeling whenever he says my name, and he always makes me feel so safe and protected. When something awful or something excellent happens, he's the first one I want to call. And when I'm in trouble, he's the only one I would want to save me. I'd do absolutely anything for this man.

Is it love? I think so.

But what now? I can't tell him that I love him, because how would I be able to walk away? Evelyn may have been the biggest bitch in the US, but she had a point - I'm dragging him down.

People like me don't get a fairytale ending, they don't get the rich, gorgeous guy, or the perfect life. We get the scraps that we get thrown by the upper class, we live under their shadow, just hoping for a little kindness or generosity.

Tobias may love me now, but what about in the future? Our relationship may be fine for now, but what happens when he begins to need more than what I can give him?

I'm not a supermodel, or remotely hot in any way, nor am I the richest or funniest girl on earth. I have nothing to offer him, so why should I drag him right down to rock bottom when he can aim so much higher?

I have to do the right thing - as my mom always said, if you love them, let them go. It'll be hell to lie to his face, and to feel my heart break in my chest, but I know that this is the right thing to do by him.

He deserves the world. He needs more than a high-school drop out with a bad reputation. And I shouldn't hold him back. I won't.

"Have you ever realised how different we are? Like, on a cellular level?" I respond, icily. "You're the rich, handsome, young business man with the bright future. I'm the poor, useless girl from the wrong side of the tracks. We're on borrowed time, Tobias!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asks, defensively.

Taking a deep breath, I build up the nerve to shout, "I _don't_ love you! Ok? You were just an opportunity. A chance to see how the other half live. You were so desperate to find someone, you didn't care who or what they did. I played you, see?!"

I've never told such a huge lie, but it's the only way to get him to realise that I'm not good for him, even if it means throwing myself into the flames to do so.

"Please tell me that is a joke," he says, slowly, the heartbreaking expression on his face bringing tears to my eyes. "Please tell me you are lying. No, I do not believe it. I love you! You-you would not betray me like that.."

"I did," I shrug, trying to act unruffled by the ordeal, about the lie I just told. "You should be more careful who you trust. Especially people like me. We're the worst of all."

Even from where I am standing, I see the tears begin to drip down his face, and the horror in his eyes. The warmth they had had disappeared, replaced with pure heartbreak - that is my fault, _I_ did that to him.

 _I'm a monster._

"Fuck you," he manages to choke out, then his voice builds. "I never want to see you again! You are fired, and you can rot in hell for all I care. I trusted you, and this is how you repay me? _Unbelievable_."

I watch as he storms back inside the house, wiping at his cheeks with the sleeve of his suit, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as it shuts, my knees give out from under me and I fall to the gravel, sobbing into my hands, feeling my heart completely shatter. It needed to be done, but that thought doesn't make it any easier to bear, not at all.

My body feels like a heavy sandbag, weighing me down, and the sobs cause my shoulders to shake. My knees are bleeding from the fall to the ground, but I can only see the crimson lines of blood running down my legs, not feeling the physical pain at all.

My cries are muffled by my hands; if I took them away my wails would surely be heard over the loud party going on inside.

Startling me, a feminine scent intrudes my nose as arms are wrapped around my body, cradling me. Getting a look, I realise it is Hanna Pedrad, and I instantly lean into her touch, welcoming the comfort.

"Oh, Tris." She whispers, stroking my hair and holding me tight, just as my mother would have done in a time like this, causing me to cry harder.

"I've messed it all up," I weep. "He'll-he'll never forgive me. I didn't mean it, any of it. But I couldn't hold him back, I had to lie so he'd let me go. I love him, Hanna."

"Shhh, child," she soothes me. "Let's start from the beginning.. tell me what happened."

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Agh, this chapter was so heartbreaking to write :(**

 **I spent the longest time writing this chapter, and used a lot of references from shows and movies - let me know if you spotted any!**

 **Also, I wrote the dancing scene to the song 'So Close' by Jon McLaughlin, which is such a great and romantic-sounding song. Definitely recommend you give it a listen!**

 **Stay tuned for the next chapter and leave a review to let me know what you thought :)**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	24. Chapter 24

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Chapter 23 {Tobias' POV}**

 **~1 week later~**

 **M RATED CONTENT AHEAD**

 **-o-o-o-**

 _Numb_.

That's the only word I can really use to describe how I have been feeling these past seven days, each worse than the last. It is ruthless, to say the least.

I just keep replaying her words in my head, "I _don't love you_ ".

Those are the last I ever expected to hear come from her mouth; all the signs were there, I was so confident in what we had, or what I thought we had. I just cannot believe she would go out of her way to use me, to betray me.

I guess I never really knew her at all.

My heartbreak is grief that comes in waves, gruelling, stealing appetite and sleep alike. It is a shard in my gut that never leaves, though perhaps sometimes it dulls around the edges. It feels so cold. It feels like concrete drying in my chest. The love I have for her is turning to poison, killing me from within.

" _I don't love you.. I played you_."

I bury my head into my pillow in an attempt to block out her voice, desperate to just escape it - and I know just the way to do it.

Rising from my bed for the first time in forty eight hours, I pull on a pair of dark sweatpants and a random discarded shirt, uncaring.

Heading downstairs, I take the ever-memorable route to the bar, which is still stocked with liquor galore; an opportunity to lose myself for a while. Being drunk is my coping mechanism.

Grabbing a bottle of Sunset Rum - which I know to be a hard ass drink - I shuffle my way into the living room and collapse into the couch, quickly unscrewing the bottle.

I raise it to my lips and take a long sip, cringing as it burns my throat and chest, but I welcome the dull pain; it's a distraction, at least.

The house is dark and dreary - the others were supposed to come back to work a few days ago, but I granted a two week extension on their holiday. I am not quite ready to face anyone, especially not Christina and Fernando, who will have questions regarding Tris' absence.

Sighing sharply, I bring the bottle back to my mouth and take an extensive swig of the hard rum.

After a good half hour, I'm three quarters of the way through the bottle, and affected _hard_.

I grip the bottle in my hands, my eyes swivelling to the back of my head in a distressed sense of a headache. I sigh as the walls become part of a fun house, changing figure in a blink of an eye.

My breath is the underlying cause of the smell of alcohol that enters my nostrils, and my mouth is sore from the amount of substance I have been pouring in consistently.

Vaugely, I hear a pounding on the front door, and a male voice calling out my name; it's all hazy though, and my mind does not completely register what it means.

"Tobias," the person at the door shouts. "Tobias, c'mon open up - it's Zeke!"

"Go away." I slur out my words, gesturing wildly at absolutely nothing.

A moment later, I can hear the eerily loud click of the lock, and the door swing open afterwards. Through my disorientation, I see Zeke appear in the doorway, his expression practically shouting his disapproval.

"Dude, _really_?" He sighs. "It's noon - what are you playing at?"

"Go away, I do not need this right now.." I yell, in a sudden and unexpected burst of anger, struggling to rise from the couch. Stumbling over my own feet, I lose my grip on the rum bottle, and watch it shatter into a million pieces as it hits the floor.

"Now look what you made me do!" I roar, my blood boiling as I stare down the man who has been my best friend for as long as I can remember - being so agressive towards him just does not feel right.

"Do you know who you look like?" He asks, his voice uncharacteristically cold. " _Your father._ "

Those words hit me hard. I recoil away from him, my hands beginning to shake; this time out of fear, as opposed to unexplainable anger. I picture him clearly in my head - bloodshot eyes, vicious temper, those dark blue eyes that constantly looked like deep pits in his skull. I can still smell the alcohol on his breath... but perhaps that is just my own.

He is right - Marcus used to drink away his depression, meaning he rarely had a sober day, if he could help it.

"This is not you. Tobias, come on, man." Zeke sighs, the sharp edge in his voice dulled down, but I can hear the heavy disappointment. I don't know which is worse, truly.

"I'm sorry." I murmur, head ducked. I feel like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Let me help you," he says, slowly. "We'll get you showered and sobered up. Then we can talk. Deal?"

So that is what I do - Zeke assists me in tackling the great staircase, keeping a steady grip to maintain my already poor balance.

Then I take a cold shower, which is like a kick to the stomach; the stream of ice water is enough to knock some sense back into me, and by the time I am ready to get out, my balance has somewhat steadied.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I manage to navigate my way back to the master bedroom with a semi-clear head, where Zeke sits at the end of the large bed.

"Feeling a bit better?" He asks, looking up as I enter.

"My head is not showing any mercy," I mumble, rubbing my temple half heartedly. "Though I deserve that, I am sure."

"You were lucky it was me at the door, rather than my mother; you would've been dead meat, I hope you know that."

"I do," I admit, reaching into the dresser in search of some clothes. "I don't know what came over me, it was like I was possessed by something."

"Heartbreak." He shrugs, saying it so simply and explicitly, I stare at him in disbelief.

"What are you talking about?" I clear my throat, deciding to play a fool.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Zeke retorts. "Tris broke your heart that night - and you've holed up for the entirety of the week, trying to get a grip on your feelings."

"I do not care about her, not anymore." I growl, trying to suppress the crack in my voice.

"Yes you do," he corrects me, softly. "You care about her a lot. Which is why you need to think about what happened the other night carefully. You know Tris - do you honestly believe she would be cruel enough to kick you to the kerb and insist she played you the whole time?"

"Wait - how the hell did you know what she said?" I ask, alarmed. "You.. you didn't speak to her, did you?"

"She's been crashing at our place for the last few days," he admits, rubbing the palms of his hands along his slacks. "Mother found her sobbing her heart out on the driveway that night, and she explained everything.. thing is, we have called and called, but you never picked up. Not once. She wants the chance to explain-"

"Explain?" I ask, hollowly. "What is there to explain? She made it astutely clear that she wanted nothing more to do with me, and what more can I do than grant her just that?"

"So you don't want to even hear her out?"

"Oh, I don't know," I sigh, running a hand over my face. "I would certainly like a reason for what she did to me, an explanation as to why she used me as a sick game. But I do not know if I could face her.."

"It's not my place to say, but there is a reason behind her doing. Everything is not as it seems - trust me. Please, say you'll give her the time of day?" He begs, and the sincere look in his eyes is enough to persuade me.

"Fine," I concede. "But that is all. She can talk, and I will listen. Do not expect more from me, and make sure she knows that too."

"You get dressed and I'll give her a call." He agrees, standing and pulling his cellphone out from the back pocket of his pants.

So while he punches in the number, I excuse myself to the bathroom with an armful of clothes and a heavy feeling in my stomach.

What the hell am I doing, agreeing to meet the girl who has been the trigger of my week-long state of depression? She played me, lied to me, made me believe that there was a chance that she could really, truly love me.

And when she looked at me, it was like I was something worth looking at.

Quickly, I drop my towel and pull on a pair of boxers, as well as my pants and a comfortable navy shirt. After brushing my teeth and splashing my semi-sober face with water, I head back out into the bedroom where Zeke is hanging up the phone.

"You're meeting her at the diner? She said you'll know which one she means.." he informs me, confusion evident on his face as he shrugs.

"Yes - the one in the middle of town. She used to work there." I tell him, simply, grabbing a jacket from the closet and pulling it on.

"I'll drive you," he offers, stretching slightly. "You seem in better condition, but I'm not willing to let you go behind the wheel."

"I suppose that is the wisest option." I admit, following him out of the bedroom.

The sun is at its highest point, glaring down at me in an angry stupor, causing my light-deprived eyes to wince.

"Here," Zeke says, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and bringing up a pair of dark shades, which he tosses to me. "Wear these; the last thing you need is for your eyes to shrivel up."

"Thanks." I mutter, slipping them on, sighing at the instant visual relief.

We get into his car, and I buckle up sloppily, the post-drinking binge side affects catching up to me - fatigue, awful headaches, nausea.. God help me that I am not sick in the middle of the diner.

As Zeke drives - me blindly giving directions - that feeling of dread in my chest throbs and worsens, causing my heart to race in anticipation.

The weather is a complete juxtaposition to the way I am feeling - while it is bright and exuberant outdoors, my head is a daunting crash of thunder, harrowingly hard rain pounding against my skull.

"How are you feeling?" Zeke asks me, mildly anxious himself, it would seem.

"Remarkable." I reply, dryly.

"Don't be too.. well, too.." he attempts to warn me, not quite getting his words out.

"Too what?" I ask, sharply.

"Too _tactless_ ," he answers. "Tris feels bad enough as it is-"

"May I say, you seem very intent on sticking up for that.. _snake_." I spit, but that word does not feel right on my tongue when it comes to describing Tris. I don't mean it. Not one bit.

He shoots me a glare. "Because I know the full story.. I understand why she acted the way she did, even if it was rather stupid on her part."

"You can understand how she played me for a fool, can you?" I bite, furiously.

"You've been hurt, I get that," he shrugs, gentler this time. "Nita screwed you over, made you insecure, as much as you'd hate to admit it. So when Tris told you all that stuff, you believed her without a second thought, because you _expected_ it. That is the mistake you made."

I stay silent; it is like he has looked directly into my mind and read every thought. Kind of spooky, really.

"Your heart has been through a fuck ton, I know that, and so does everybody else. But this doesn't have to end badly." He adds.

"What am I supposed to do? Reverse it? Pretend like that night never happened? I do not understand how I can make this better." I respond, desperately.

"Man up," Zeke says, firmly. "Don't let the hurt you've been through hold you back from the girl of your dreams that's been under your nose this whole time. Hear her out, listen to her reasoning. She might have broke your heart, but you broke hers too, dude. It takes two to tango."

"I just don't understand," I sigh. "How could I have broke her heart? She was the one who ruined us. I love her, Zeke! I told her so and she told me it was one sided, I had never felt so shitty until that moment. _She_ walked away."

"It isn't my place to talk to you - it needs to come from Tris, not me. All will become clear, just be patient. Alright?"

"Alright." I murmur, though it is not even close.

However, I will keep to my word - giving Tris the opportunity to explain what happened, and why she acted the way she did may bring me some kind of clarity. Or at least some closure.

We pull up into the compact diner parking lot, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before unbuckling. Zeke gives me a hearty clap on the shoulder, his dark eyes conveying more sincerity than ever.

I supply him with a small smile and reach for the door handle, climbing out of his slick black Range Rover - one that I assisted him in picking out, in fact.

Readjusting my dark shades, I shuffle my way towards the entrance, an unforgiving lump forming in my throat.

It is empty today; only a few customers made up of an old man in a raincoat - despite the warm and bright weather - reading the paper, and a couple of adolescents studying with tall milkshakes.

In the corner, furthest away from the front counter, I spot a girl - blonde, bundled up in an oversized Adidas hooded sweatshirt, her long hair thrown up into a messy bun.

Running a nervous hand through my hair, I make my way over to the booth, awkwardly.

I slide in opposite her, and take a good look at her face, up close; her eyes are rimmed red and are puffed up - as if she has been crying for a couple days - and there are dark circles under her eyes, of which are dull and dreary, lacking their usual spark.

"Tobias." She manages to gasp out, like she is genuinely surprised that I showed up.

"Tris." I respond, bluntly, my hands shaking from where they are hidden in my pockets.

"I-I.. thanks for coming.. you owe me nothing at all, and had every right to refuse. So thanks." She adds, the soft melody of her voice warming me to the very core, just as it always has.

Taking off my shades, I place them on the table and clear my throat, completely unsure of how to respond to that.

"You've been drinking." She states, before I can open my mouth, staring at my presumably blood shot eyes.

"We are not here to talk about what I have been doing on my own time," I answer, brashly. "You are here to provide me with an explanation. So go ahead, the floor is yours."

"I don't know where to begin," she shakes her head. "Well, I guess I should amend something - when I told you that I didn't love you.. it was the biggest lie I'd ever come out with. Of course I love you.. more than anything. And I'm sorry that I lied to you about it.. I hadn't a choice."

"What is that supposed to mean? You didn't have a choice? No one forced you to say anything, Tris. You said that on your own accord, whether it was false or not."

"After talking with your mom, I realised a lot about us." She admits, playing with the sleeves of her hoodie, not looking at me.

"Go on." I encourage, folding my arms.

"She was right when she said that I wasn't good enough for you. You could get any girl you wanted - somebody richer, prettier, and just better than little old me. I've never been good enough for anybody, so what made you any different?" She continues, sadly.

"I do not want anyone else!" I exclaim, but am cautious of other customers overhearing. "Don't you understand? You are the only girl.. I do not need anybody else, ok?"

"Maybe for now," she shoots back. "But what about in a couple months time? A year? Two? Everyone leaves eventually, don't you see? I wanted to spare the goodbye for me, and give you the opportunity to go out and find someone new, someone better."

"So, what? You thought I would just move on with my life and not give you as much as a second thought? I have not left my house in days. I let you into my heart and you stamped all over it." I spit, my tone astonishingly icy.

"I know I fucked up, and now I'm trying to make it better," she protests. "An apology isn't going to do much, but it's a start."

"It sure as hell is not going to do much," I growl. "You played me - you told me that you only lead me on to see what it was like to live as somebody in the upper class. I was your project. An _experiment_."

"D'you honestly believe I'd be so cruel as to do something like that? That I'd do that to you?"

"What did you expect me to think?" I retort, my confusion hitting an all-time high.

"I _lied_! I lied so you would hate me, so you would leave me. I wanted you to move on, to realise that I wasn't the girl that you wanted, that you needed! I loved you. I _love_ you. I'd never do something so low, I could never deceive someone I love." she argues.

"You do not get to decide for me! I wanted to stay by your side, to build a relationship with you. Why was not that enough for you?" I ask, my voice flat and lifeless.

"I didn't think it'd be enough for you," she admits. "We were living in a fantasy world, where we thought that nothing could ever tear us apart. Meeting your mother was a slap to the face, and I acted on instinct. I was hurt, I was angry - I didn't think. All I wanted to do was get you as far away from me as possible; you're mom was right..."

"My mother is never right," I scoff. "She works for herself, she would have said anything to rip us apart, and she succeeded. She made you doubt yourself, as well as me. She made you second guess us. Little does she know, it is _me_ wrecking your life, putting you through so much shit after everything that you have already had to face."

"I'm sorry. It was just.. just so much to handle." Tris says, ducking her head, and I notice a tear drip down her cheek.

"Hey, hey," I admonish, softly, reaching across the table to wipe it away with my thumb. "No tears.."

"I didn't know what to do, Tobias. I messed up, I hurt you. That's what I do, see; I push people away until they eventually stay there - away. But this time.. this time I wanted them to stay. I wanted you to stay." She explains, her grey eyes cloudy with more tears.

"What a shit show." I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck and leaning back in the seat.

"You believed me so easily," she adds, weakly. "I guess, that's what hurt me the most - how you just believed I would do something like that. That _sucked_."

I now understand what Zeke meant, and he was right - I broke her heart, just as she did mine. We are in the same boat, it seems.

"It came out of nowhere," I shake my head. "I did not want to believe it, yet I jumped to conclusions without really thinking it over.."

Really deliberating it, the answer is so clear - Tris would never have betrayed me; after sticking by me for so long and through so much, what on earth would possess her to act out in such a way? She has comforted me, pushed me forward, raised me up, put me in my place.. she is my beginning and my end. I cannot believe I thought otherwise.

"God, I have been such an idiot," I sigh, putting my head in my hands. "I was too distracted and consumed in my hurt to really think about it. Not properly, anyway."

"Did-did I.. ruin your life?" She stammers, causing me to lift my head and stare at her in complete shock.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, taken aback.

"I know you say that you are wrecking mine, but am I just really screwing things up for you?" She elaborates, anxiously, nibbling on her thumbnail. "I mean, am I responsible? Am I just destroying everything that I touch?"

I take her small hands in mine, looking into her teary eyes intently. "No. You couldn't. You would never intentionally hurt anybody, not if you didn't think it was right. And nobody could ever be harmed by having you in their life. Especially not me."

Spotting a few tears fall from her eyes, I release her hands and stand, moving from my side of the booth to hers. Having her in my arms is a relief; the feeling of her pressing her face into my chest, her fingers gripping my shirt. I bury my face into her hair and inhale the familiar smell of peaches and mangos.

"I love you, Tris." I whisper, bracing myself for her reaction - is it too soon to bring those three words up again?

"I love you too." She murmurs, tightening her grip.

Within the next ten minutes, we have milkshakes delivered to our booth and are snuggled up, like nothing had ever happened - though we both know it did.

And although it tore us apart, and we both endured tear-filled nights and sorrow-packed days, it has changed us. Possibly bettered us as people, and as a team. Because sometimes people need to fall out of love to fall back in it again.

"Look," Tris says gently, after a sip of her vanilla treat. "As much as I would love for this to be over with.. there's still one more explanation that you owe me - the drinking."

"I am not usually a heavy drinker.. but it is always a good escape when I am feeling bad. It is not the healthiest, safest or most conventional way but.. it is all I know."

"Your dad." She says, simply, understanding instantly.

"He would do the same," I nod, reluctantly. "If he had a bad day at work, or was feeling particularly angry or irritable.. he would just drink it all away. And I witnessed that process, day in, day out. And I guess, when you grow up around such a repulsive man, you latch on to new habits rather quickly."

"You don't have to follow in his footsteps, you make your own choices. Drinking doesn't make your problems disappear, it just adds another one to the list." She tells me, softly, though I already know it all already.

"I know, Zeke knocked some sense into my head. I was in a bad place.. and I hate myself for giving in to such a nasty pass time."

"It doesn't make any less of a good person, you know that, don't you?" Tris adds, smiling. "Everyone has their flaws, their weakness's, and that's okay."

Leaning in, I kiss her lips intensely - but keep it PG due to our location - and she sighs against my mouth, letting her hand roam into my cropped hair.

I have always tolerated kissing, but with Tris it is like I will never get enough of her sweet, sweet mouth - and I hope that I will never have to find out how bad life would be without it again.

And for letting me love her, and getting her love in return, I definitely prefer her to the alcohol.

 **-o-o-o-**

"Oh, Tobias." Tris moans into my ear, gripping onto my shoulders in attempt to steady herself.

I have her pinned up against the wall of the upstairs hallway; my hand slipped down below the hem of her leggings, under her panties, so my fingers can explore her sweet core.

Her hooded sweatshirt has been discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving her in a simple marooon bra - giving me a tasteful view of her perky-looking breasts.

"Fuck, you feel so good." I murmur, slipping a second finger into her centre, causing her to whimper loudly, tightening her grip.

Moving my spare hand away from her waist, I move it up to cup her breast through the material of her bra, pressing a kiss to her lips.

I continue to thrust my digits in and out, varying in pace and speed, so her senses are sensitive. I curl my fingers just right and move my thumb to her clit, consuquenting in an intense orgasm from my girl - she tightens around my fingers and a crescendo of moans tumble from her mouth.

As she comes down from her high, I show heaps of attention to her long milky neck, nibbling and kissing the tender skin.

Before I know it, she's slipped out from under my arms, and is standing a good few feet away, grinning playfully.

"C'mon," she encourages, nodding her head towards the bedroom as she backs away in that direction. "It's your turn."

She keeps eye contact as she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to her feet. Although I can tell she is nervous to reveal herself to me, there is a devilish look hidden behind the shyness in her eyes.

Her breasts are round and perky - a little on the small side, but fucking perfect, just as I had suspected.

"How did I get so lucky?" I smirk, lunging for her and tossing her over my shoulder, carrying her to the bedroom. She squeals and pounds at my back with her fist, kicking her legs in protest, but I do not let her down.

I toss her onto the bed and she stares up at me, giggling slightly, and I admire her grey eyes for a second, just standing at the foot of the large bed.

"What?" She asks, suddenly insecure, attempting to cover her chest with her arms.

Snapping back to attention, I climb onto the bed and pull her hands away.

"Do not cover yourself up, you are perfect," I whisper, huskily. "I was admiring your eyes.. those dark grey orbs that caught my attention instantly, the very first time I saw you."

"Shut up." She admonishes, bashfully, swatting at my chest before leaning up to kiss me. I roll over and bring her with me so that she is atop of me, her knees either side of me, her lips attached to mine lustfully.

She begins to unbutton my navy shirt, running her fingertips along my stomach, causing me to shiver slightly. Noticing, she smiles against my mouth.

I sit up and remove my shirt fully, tossing it away from the bed, grinning at my slightly flustered Tris, who lets down her long hair, letting it tumble right down to her waist.

Before I can initiate another kiss, her lips dip down to my jaw, peppering kisses there, slowly making her way down to my chest. Her finger traces a hot path down to my pants, fiddling with the button.

"May I?" She asks, looking up at me, her head tilted down so it is through her eyelashes, causing my semi-hard cock to twitch.

"Only if you want to," I assure her. "I am perfectly fine with waiting, we do not have to do anything you find too much."

"And if I want to?" She counters, already unbuttoning my dark pants.

"Then it would be a pleasure." I smile, kissing her temple. I watch intently as she inches my pants down to my ankles, throwing them over her shoulder once they are completely off.

Hesitantly, she moves her fingertips along the bulge in my underwear, and I bite my lip, throwing my head back against the pillow. But I quickly move my elbows so that I am leaning onto them, so I can watch her easily.

Tugging down my boxer shorts, my cock springs free, hard and ready for her ministrations. She stares at it for a moment, her expression unreadable, and I suddenly become anxious - I am generally happy with my body, but her opinion means a lot to me. I would like to know that she thinks me to be a good lover.

But then her mouth twists into a little smile and she looks excited; relieving my insecurities.

Taking it in her small hand, I watch on as she takes a long lick with the tip of her pink tongue, from base to tip. I let out a deep sigh and she smiles; she seems to like the fact that she can give me pleasure.

An eager smile on my face as I watch her, she continues to pepper me with gentle kisses, and occasional licks, building up all the sensations. And when she covers the head with her hot little mouth, I let out a sharp moan, threading my fingers into her long hair.

"I-I don't think that I will last very long." I admit, sheepishly.

"I'll take that as a compliment, eh?" Tris responds, smirking slightly before returning her mouth to my rock hard member, taking a little more this time. She begins to bob her head up and down, her hand running up and down my thigh, teasingly.

"God, Tris - I am so close." I grunt, trying not to thrust my hips to meet her mouth; I do not want to risk her choking.

She replaces her mouth with her hand and strokes me up and down, and I feel myself begin to build up intensely.

"Fuck.. I'm-"

I am cut off by the orgasm that hits me, sending waves of pleasure through my body like an electric shock. Tris continues to massage me as I cum, and her hand is now covered in it - I have not relieved myself in such a way in a while, which explains the hefty amount.

She giggles adorably, her lips slightly swollen and her cheeks flushed scarlet.

"We should get cleaned up." I say, smiling, standing from the bed and pulling her with me, hanging onto her small waist.

In the bathroom, I use a wash cloth to clean up my stomach, and my satisfied yet still semi-hard cock - while Tris washes her hands at the sink, humming to herself happily.

"We should take a shower." I suggest, casually.

She casts me a surprised yet curious look and asks, " _Together_?"

"If you would like," I smile, bashfully. "I mean, I need a good wash, anyway - after hibernating for a few days."

She heads over to the shower and heats it up, admiring the modern design, and the rain-fall styled square shower head.

I am washing my hands when I glance up in the mirror, just in time to watch my beautiful Tris strip free of her remaining clothes, leaving her fully naked for the first time that I have witnessed. And Jesus, she is gorgeous - her little peachy behind, and the smooth, shaved mound of her womanhood.

Just like that, my cock has hardened for the second time, aching at the sight of her.

I watch as she slides open the door to the shower closet and steps inside, leaving it open for me to follow, I assume. So I turn off the faucet at the sink and approach the shower, taking a deep breath.

She stands under the water, head tilted back, in all of her natural and wonderful beauty. Sensing me watching, she opens her eyes to look at me, a nervous smile pulling at her mouth.

"You look like an angel." I breathe out, before I can filter my words, and I blush - what kind of line was that?

"C'mon, Mr Greek God." She smirks playfully, taking my hand and tugging me into the shower, her eyes roaming my sculpted chest.

Pinning her up against the opposite wall, I lean down to catch her lips in a kiss, her skin wet from the shower water, slipping against my own. It is then that I realise how close our downstairs regions are together, and I suck up a sharp intake of breath.

Is she ready to go that far just yet?

She reaches up and holds onto my shoulders, pressing her firm breasts into my chest, heightening all pleasure I get from just locking lips with this girl.

"We-we need to stop," I pant, pulling away, finding some self restraint. "Or.."

"Or what?" She asks, only partly innocent-looking.

"I do not know if you are ready yet, but controlling myself has always been hard around you and now.. well, you understand, right?"

"I have only done it once, y'know," she admits, shyly. "And it completely sucked. I want- I want to count you as my first. I'm ready.. if you are."

"I assume you are not on the contraceptive pill?" I guess.

"I am," she surprises me. "I had trouble with my periods a couple months back, so the doctor told me the pill would help. And.. like, I'm clean, if that's any constellation. So we could do it without, or not, I mean-"

Reaching down, I rest my hands on the back of her thighs, encouraging her to hop up, and she does - wrapping her legs around my waist, her heels digging into my behind.

I back her into the wall once more, looking deeply into her eyes as I reach down to check that she is suitably wet, only to find that she is practically dripping in anticipation.

"Are you sure?" I ask once more, wanting to ensure that she is completely certain that this is what she wants.

"I'm sure," she whispers. "Please.. I need you inside me, Tobias."

Not needing to be told twice, my cock meets her sweet opening, and I slowly push my way inside, and she whimpers from the pain.

"I'm sorry." I say, gently into her ear - I hate that this has to hurt her, but whoever her first time was with clearly did not do much to stretch her out because she is tighter than I imagined. She feels amazing, I just hope she can begin to feel the pleasure I do soon.

Once I am all the way in, I pause and kiss her collarbone, giving her time to adjust to my size.

"Keep going," she moans, softly, after a minute. "You feel so good."

So on her command, I begin to thrust in and out of her soaking heat, the water from the shower head crashing down onto my back. I rest my forehead against hers and focus on my rhythm, though her delicious moans are distracting me slightly.

She rocks her hips in time with my thrusts, and I grunt at the feeling of her wrapped around my bare cock - she's warm and tight and welcoming.

It is not the first time for either of us, but it is like we have been touched for the first time, every nerve is almost unbearably sensitive. Sex has never been this amazing.

"Yes, Tobias." She cries out, pressing her body as close to mine as she can manage, her sensitive bud rubbing against my stomach, enhancing her pleasure.

"Shit, baby." I curse, speeding up, the sounds of her wet pussy driving me crazy. I am surrounded by her, encased in her, and it is absolutely incredible.

I press my lips against her jaw lovingly - my tender touch contrasting with my punishing thrust - I want to convey how deeply I feel for her through my body. This is not just a quick one-time thing for me. This is Tris. The girl that I love. She deserves the world, and that is what I will give her.

I feel her getting close and her breathing becomes erratic, her fingers digging into the flesh of my back, scraping on the skin, leaving her mark.

I lift my head, determined to watch her as she shatters. Pressure builds, and I twist my hand into her hair, and she lets go - everything building up until she snaps and falls apart.

The moment her face twists in pure ecastacy and her pussy tightens around my member, her name falls from my lips - which can barely be heard over her intense and almost deafening moans - and I thrust once more before falling into oblivion along with her.

Hours later, when all the damage is over and done with, when all the incredible sexual activities have come to a close, we lie together; her sleeping soundly, and me listening to the dead silence.

My hand twists into hers and our fingers lock, and I absent mindedly trace patterns on her bare hip with my spare hand.

Her hair tickles my nose from how she is curled up into me, her head on my chest, her leg thrown over my own.

This girl right here, is the only girl I ever want to call mine again - this is it for me, and I have never been happier about anything. For once in my miserable life, I have found a ray of sunshine, a tiny ball of hope, that has truly pulled through.

We have overcome a lot, and still have a lot to deal with, all the same - the backlash we will surely receive from my mother, the issue of me still being her boss. But we have gone through too much, to just fall apart and be washed away be the waves.

I remember something Zeke once told me, " _Don't get your head too lost in the clouds_."

As many times as he has been right, this was not one of those specific occasions - if I had began to harbour the same mindset as people of my own social class, I would have never dreamed of pursuing Tris. Therefore, I would have missed out on a world of romance and trust and partnership if I had listened to that piece of advice.

I suppose, love is not about finding the perfect person - it's realising the imperfect person can truly make your life perfect.

Kissing her head, I smile to myself; this is where I want to be, this is where I belong.

I have _finally_ found my place.

 **-o-o-o-**

 **Authors Note:**

 **And that folks is the last chapter for Tobias! And what a happy one it was - our protagonists have come back together, and enjoyed their first time together also!**

 **This is officially my longest chapter, and I spent at least six hours on it today, as well as over a few other days too, so I hope y'all enjoy!**

 **Next chapter (the epilogue) it will be Tris' POV, 12 months later, and you guys will get the happy ending you have all been longing for! Stay tuned!**

 **Drop a review and let me know what you thought, thank you so much for all the positive comments about my previous chapter, you readers mean sooo much to me!**

 **\- GuiltyMind**


	25. Chapter 25

**"Frozen Truths"**

 **Epilogue {Tris' POV}**

 **-o-o-o-**

 _96, Dauntless Way_

 _Indiana Village_

 _99501_

 _Hotel Due Torri_

 _Verona, Italy_

 _371216_

 _Tori,_

 _You would not believe the stuff we've been getting up to here in Italy!_

 _We have explored the entirety of the country and it's rich culture, and are now staying in Verona for the next few weeks in the nicest hotel I've ever been in - seriously, the table cloths would probably be the same price as whatever is in my bank account._

 _This whole experience is life changing, and the fact that I get to spend it with Tobias just makes it all the better._

 _Speaking of Tobias.. I have a very big announcement, so make sure you're sitting down.._

 _He proposed!_

 _We were eating at this beautiful restaurant in Venice, overlooking the Rialto Bridge where all the boats were floating by, and he just popped the question, right there._

 _It was kind of embarrassing when everyone began to clap and cheer, and the manager gave us free deserts, but I was too happy to really notice or care._

 _The ring is so gorgeous, I cannot wait to show you when I get home in a couple months time!_

 _How is everybody? Summer? Bud?_

 _It's amazing here, but I miss you and the diner and my parents.. make sure to drop off some flowers at the grave for me, would you? I visited before we had to catch our flight and Tobias and I left some flowers, but that was a good while ago now._

 _Also, being away from our little town has given me a lot to think about - about all that you have done for me, mostly._

 _I know that Tobias has become my heart, my soul, my everything, and I hope it will stay that way. But Tori.. you were my first love, my first home away from home._

 _You were a parent to me when I had none, you were my rock, my shoulder to cry on, my support system. Without you, everything that makes me so happy to this day, would not be possible._

 _You taught me to love and to trust again, and to me, you are family, through and through._

 _You've been patient, kind, caring, generous.. you were the thing that pulled me through my darkest times. You did me favour after favour, never letting me down, always coming through when I needed you most._

 _I know I am not always the easiest girl to stick with and care for, but somehow you managed it, always on your A game._

 _It was you who encouraged me to branch out, you advised me through the rough times, and supported me through the good._

 _And while you have your own family, your own daughter, you have always taken the time out to do me favours, to help me out when I was all alone, with nobody else to guide me._

 _I've never believed in all the religious or superstitious bullshit, and when people bang on about angels and God, I completely switch off and ignore their words._

 _But maybe I was wrong to do that - I found an angel, and she was in the form of a diner owner, running a business on her own, on her feet all day every day._

 _She might not be your classic angel, but she is my guardian angel._

 _You are my guardian angel, Tori._

 _And I can't thank you enough._

 _Ever since Dad passed, ever since Caleb left, ever since Mom got pulled away from me too, I've always felt lost. But you know what I could rely on, when I felt the word was shattering beneath my feet?_

 _You - because you were there, day in day out, unarguably._

 _This letter is incredibly sappy and serious, but being away with Tobias and experiencing all new things has been a true awakening._

 _I should draw this thing to a close now, I guess.._

 _Well, I hope all is well back home, and I'll make sure to bring you back something I know you'll love, I just have to find that special something first!_

 _See you soon,_

 _Tris xx_

 _(PS: Tobias and I would just love for you to be the one to give me away, just a thought! Think about it, eh?)_

 _(PPS: Tobias says hey!)_

 **Authors Note:**

 **Omg and that's a wrap guys! I can't believe this story has come to a close; I had so much writing it and hearing your feedback, brightening up my day.**

 **This chapter was sort of odd, and I'm sure you were all expecting something totally different- my original intention was to write a full chapter, but I came up with the idea of a letter and decided to try it out, and I was pretty happy with the outcome; I feel like it represents Tris very well, sloppy and unorthodox and not up to date with modern life (due to her letter writing).**

 **I just wanted to say thank you to every single person who took the time to read my work, review, favourite and follow. Each reader means the absolute world to me, and you encourage me to continue with my writing so thank you!**

 **I already have an idea in store for my next story, and I will begin writing it ASAP, so keep an eye out. It will be based around some pretty emotional topics, and I am excited to explore the topic I will be addressing throughout. I am excited for your opinions!**

 **Until next time,**

 **\- GuiltyMind :)**


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